


Community Service

by alley_oops



Category: High School Musical (Movies)
Genre: Complete, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 45,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25865488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops
Summary: Ryan tells Chad not to question his own sexuality. Chad does not appreciate this.
Relationships: Chad Danforth/Ryan Evans
Comments: 151
Kudos: 307





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no legal, professional, or spiritual relationship with the terrifying Disney conglomerate. I just think that these two entirely fictional characters are really hot together.

  


“Ohmygod ohmygod ohmy _god!”_

Ryan rolled his eyes but didn’t pull back, just kept on licking, his hand moving in time with his mouth as he sucked Chad off. He did close his other hand around Chad’s wrist, though, because seriously—if he didn’t ease up on that grip of Ryan’s hair, he was going to give him a hell of a headache.

Ryan knew this from experience. 

Chad whimpered, then bucked against him frantically in the instant before he shot hard and hot into Ryan's mouth. Ryan winced but swallowed, then licked up the stray drops as Chad's thunderous breathing began to slow. It tasted... like crap, really, the way it always tasted. But Ryan smiled anyway, because triumph always made the flavor sweeter. 

Easing back, he got to his feet and then brushed off the knees of his slacks. As he adjusted his hat to its customary jaunty angle, he eyed Chad in speculation. Chad still looked pretty dazed - Ryan couldn't blame him - but he didn't seem in imminent danger of bursting into tears or babbling a confession or snarking some or other stupid and totally fact-based insult at him. _Good enough_. "Have fun, man," Ryan said, and opened the laundry room door to head back out into the party, leaving Chad with his baggy jeans still around his ankles.

* * *

It should have been enough. Chad should have taken it like a man - well, so to speak, anyway - they should have been entirely through with each other, and things should have returned quite comfortably to the status quo. Except that Chad kept _looking_ at him.

It was beginning to get irritating. 

"Dude, seriously," Ryan muttered to Chad one day, stopping by his locker after chemistry class and pretending like it was a totally normal conversation. "All my discretion isn't going to do you a damn bit of good if you don't quit watching me like you're crushing."

"What? I'm not—“ Chad's protest was automatic, and Ryan just raised an eyebrow. “It’s just—“ he frowned, his gaze fixed on a spot somewhere beyond Ryan’s left shoulder. “I need to talk to you.”

_Oh. God._ Ryan drew in a deep breath. He’d had such high hopes that Chad wouldn’t go there… “Fine,” he said reluctantly. “I’ll meet you in the alley behind the gym at 5:30. If you make me wait, I’m gone.”

Chad nodded his understanding, meeting Ryan’s eyes for a panicked second before Ryan took pity on him and walked away.

* * *

The alley behind the gym was a surprisingly private place to meet up. The alley behind the theater, on the other hand, was pretty much never empty, what with there always being the strange affinity between drama geeks and cigarettes. Ryan didn’t smoke, of course, but then he was a singer and a dancer, not a mere foolish theater kid. Still, he was grateful that most of the jocks seemed to value their lungs more than his own crowd. 

Chad didn’t make him wait, which was smart of him. Although Ryan still wished that they could’ve avoided this stupid conversation altogether.

“I need to—I think—“ Chad trailed off and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. Ryan struggled not to roll his eyes. “I want to see you again.”

“You’re seeing me right now,” Ryan pointed out, his tone bland. Chad shot him a pained look.

“No, I mean—you _know_ what I mean,” he insisted, and yes, of course, Ryan did. 

“It’s not what you think,” Ryan assured him, telling himself that he was expertly affecting kind condescension, his demeanor nearly paternal. “You’re not gay, Chad. It’s okay. Go home, and don’t worry about it anymore.”

“I’m not—what?” Chad looked at him incredulously. “Ryan, how could you… why do you think I’m not… you know!”

“Yes, I _know_.” Now Ryan did roll his eyes. He really just couldn’t help it. “Chad, you were curious. I get that. It’s a healthy curiosity, totally normal,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “I’m the guy everyone comes to, it’s my community service project, penance for my sins and all that. I blew you, you came harder than you ever had in your life, but that doesn’t make you gay, Chad. I’m pretty phenomenal.” He said all this in as matter-of-fact and straightforward a manner as he could; if he could only convince Chad not to _argue_ with him, they might still both get out of this clean and easy.

But Chad just stared at him, his jaw gaping. Why oh _why_ had Ryan ever thought he could get away with this? Chad was just so stubbornly earnest. Ryan should’ve seen the warning signs flashing a mile away. 

“I don’t think that… I mean, just because you—Seriously, dude!” Chad interrupted himself suddenly. “You talk about yourself that way?”

Ryan shrugged. “It is what it is. We’ve all got our strengths.” 

Chad kept staring. Ryan was uncertain just which emotion it was flashing in those dark eyes. Disbelief? Disgust? Mere paranoia?

“You think I’m just going to…” Chad trailed off, waving his hand in the air.

_Complete a sentence. Any day now._ Ryan sealed his lips, and tried to look attentive.

“Evans, seriously? You don’t want… I don’t know, something back? From me, I mean?”

“Really?” Ryan paused a moment, to make sure that Chad was finished. “Yeah, no. I really don’t. Not my gig, man.” Chad’s eyes clouded over – it might’ve just been confusion – and Ryan laid a friendly hand on his shoulder. “I release you of all responsibilities, real or imagined,” he declared theatrically, then gave up on that tack because it clearly wasn’t helping. “Go flirt with a cheerleader. You’re good at it. And the next time you’ve got one in the backseat, you’ll know better what to ask for.”

Chad couldn’t seem to come up with an answer, so Ryan gave up altogether. He just sighed and walked off towards the parking lot.

* * *

For a week, Chad chewed that one over. He still just didn’t get how Ryan could be totally casual like that, like nothing of significance had happened whatsoever. Because, yeah, it wasn’t like they were in love or something, and Chad was fine with no-strings fooling around. Actually he’d learned to generally prefer it, particularly during basketball season, when he really needed to focus and not go losing his edge by throwing himself into trying to sweeten up some girl. Taylor was cool. Taylor was attractive, and interesting, and she’d also made it clear that she was never going to screw Chad in the absence of some sort of defining commitment, perhaps symbolized by an eight-month anniversary celebration and a sparkly gift or something. Which Chad totally respected, and so they were just friends. Fine.

Other girls, not so much. Chad flattered himself that he’d gotten reasonably good at picking the ones who weren’t going to get all moony over him and expect flowers and fourth dates or anything. Certain of the cheerleaders were actually pretty well known for preferring to keep their options open, and Chad quite carefully had comfortable flirtations going on with all of those ones, and none of the other kind.

But still, _this_ was something he’d never encountered before. _This_ being the weird thing with Ryan, where Ryan blew his mind and Chad was still trying to figure it all out, and Ryan couldn’t even be bothered to give him the time of day, like, ever. 

Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around?

After all, Chad was… well, he was the straight guy, to hear Ryan tell it. And Ryan should know, right? But so anyway, it was so totally obvious that Ryan was supposed to crush on him, in that ‘torturing himself with something he couldn’t have’ kind of way, and then they were supposed to hook up and it would be crazy hot, and then Chad was supposed to freak out and totally ignore Ryan, and then Ryan’s feelings would be all hurt while Chad remembered that he was totally and completely into girls.

Something like that, anyway.

But no, instead it was Ryan drawing the line in the sand and telling Chad to stay way way on the other side of it.

Not. Cool.

“What do you want?” He threw the demand at Ryan out of the blue one day, like a grenade. 

Ryan blinked, and actually kind of flinched back against his locker, which made Chad feel like he was finally a bit more on even ground. Good.

“I… nothing,” Ryan answered, shooting him a look that was kind of half-paranoid and half ‘OMG Chad you’re a fucking psycho.’ 

Maybe that was just all paranoid, then.

“No. Seriously,” Chad insisted. “People don’t _do_ that. They just don’t.”

Ryan glanced around like he was looking for an easy exit, then looked back at Chad again. “Do what, exactly?”

“What—what you _did_ ,” Chad said, and now he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Just—“ he waved his hand in the air to fill in the blank, because it wasn’t like Ryan didn’t _know_ already, “and then—you know!”

“I see.” Ryan pursed his lips and studied Chad, and even though Chad had been pissed off that Ryan was ignoring him so thoroughly, that sudden careful inspection really kind of made him nervous. “Your ego’s hurting.”

“My what?” 

“Your _ego_ , Chad,” Ryan repeated, except that it had been more of a rhetorical question, because Chad so did not need that kind of clarification. “It’s actually bothering you that I’m not chasing you around and leaving you sappy notes in your locker and wishing you’d ask me out.” Grabbing a book, Ryan slipped it into his messenger bag and then slammed his locker shut before returning his attention to Chad. “Not to hurt your feelings or anything, but I don’t doodle your name with little hearts all around it, either.”

Chad stared at him incredulously, then shook his head. “Not cool, man,” he insisted, pointing at Ryan. 

Ryan grimaced, and God if Ryan rolled his eyes _one more time_ then Chad was going to… well, he wasn’t certain. But he preferred to think that he’d be above retaliatory violence.

Glancing around quickly at the near-empty hallway, Ryan stepped in close. “Exactly what do you want from me, Danforth?” he asked softly, his blue eyes direct and unflinching and just a little too cold for Chad’s comfort.

Frowning, Chad realized he wasn’t sure of the answer to that one. “You’re a fucking tease, asshole.”

Ryan’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t even have the courtesy to look insulted. He just looked… mildly surprised. “In what way am I a tease?” he whispered. “You came onto me. I blew you. You came.” He paused for a moment, then shrugged. “You’re just pissed off because I didn’t call you the next day.”

He watched Chad for a second longer – that _look_ , the one that made Chad feel like Ryan knew way more about him than he even knew himself – and then he turned and walked off down the hall.

It took Chad a while to see past his initial flare of fury. It took him that long to realize that Ryan was right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad goes to Troy "The Love Doctor" Bolton and asks for romance advice.

Chad wasn't much of a planner. It was obvious to all who knew him: his parents, who wanted him to buckle down and get his grades up so he could start choosing colleges; his coach, who wanted him to focus and think through his options so he could start looking for scholarships; his teachers, who knew that crazed sleep-starved look he always had on his face the day a big project was due, proving that he'd done no work in the weeks before and had instead stayed up till dawn frantically putting on the finishing touches.

It just wasn't a big deal to him. He liked the feeling of living in the moment, taking things as they came. He hated worrying about things needlessly for weeks in advance, figuring that those things would arrive in his life soon enough, and he sure didn't need a jumpstart. 

The Ryan thing, though. It was a problem. And it was apparently not one to be solved by a going-in-blind frontal assault, if the little exchange at his locker was any evidence. No, Chad was clearly going to have to think this one out. The mere idea got on his nerves, had him itching to shrug it off and just forget the whole thing... but then he'd find himself staring absently at Ryan during class, watching the way Ryan would sometimes run his tongue over his top lip when he was deep in thought.

And that right there? It was motivation enough. Chad was determined to plot and scheme like a mastermind if it would get him another round of personal attention from that wicked mouth.

But what did a guy like him do, exactly, to get a little positive attention from the object of his, erm, interest? Chad had never really thought about it before. Flowers seemed to be some kind of universal ticket to getting some, at least according to Hallmark. The last time Chad had given flowers to a female, it had been the Valentine's Day while his parents were going through their trial separation period, and he'd sent a dozen roses to his mom just to cheer her up some. If he thought further back, he vaguely recalled putting some carnations in his girlfriend's locker in eighth grade... of course, that relationship had ended with her oozing all over Troy at a party, so he definitely wasn't going there again.

_ Troy. _

Chad frowned as he considered his best friend. Troy was, of course, damn near attached at the hip to his girlfriend Gabriella, and the two of them were generally able to send anyone within a five-mile radius into sugar shock. At least Chad knew he wasn't alone in being annoyed by that, and he'd definitely fielded complaints from a few people who clearly just didn't have the heart to complain directly to the offending couple. But, sickening or not, they did seem truly happy, and Gabriella had declared more than once that Troy was the Best Boyfriend Ever, all capitalized just like that. 

Troy must have been doing _something_ right.

"Hey man," Chad said one Sunday afternoon, dribbling a basketball in Troy's driveway while Troy took a water break. "What do you do for Gabriella?"

"Huh?" Troy swiped the back of his hand over his sweaty forehead, and looked at Chad in confusion.

"You know. Like, what do you give her?" Chad asked, his eyes on the ball like he wasn't even really all that interested in the answer.

"Give her," Troy echoed, and when Chad glanced up again it looked like Troy was trying to work through whether that was supposed to be some obscene euphemism. And if so, whether he was offended.

"Dumbass," Chad muttered with a roll of his eyes. "I don't want to know about your sex life. I mean, like, what. Flowers? Candy? Jewelry?"

Troy's brow furrowed, and he shrugged. "Well, flowers, yeah. All the time. Candy... she never eats it anyway, she just always says she'll get fat and she gives it back to me. So, you know, I buy it for her when I want some." He held his hands out and Chad passed him the ball, and Troy idly dribbled it while he thought. "Um, jewelry, really just the necklace I gave her at the end of last school year. You know, the one with the sparkly T, for Troy. Oh, but, don't tell," he said, looking up. "I bought her some earrings to match. I'm going to give them to her on her birthday."

"Uh-huh." Privately, Chad thought that was a really dumb idea. The sparkly 'T for Troy' necklace had seemed like a bad idea in the first place - and weirdly self-obsessed to boot - but _earrings?_ Making a sparkly T trio? Chad suppressed a wince. But really, what did he know anyway? Troy was the one getting regular sex.

"And then there's that teddy bear," Troy was saying, continuing the conversation in complete obliviousness of Chad's wandering mind, "the one with the shirt with little hearts all over it. And then there's the really big iguana that I won her at the County Fair last summer. Oh, and the two teddy bears that are attached to each other-- you know, so it looks like they're hugging? Oh, and--"

"Dude, what? You won her an iguana?" Chad blinked, wondering if he'd heard right.

"It was stuffed. And, like, three feet tall. Really cuddly," Troy added, and Chad pondered just what it was with hormones that could take a totally normal and pretty cool guy and transform him into this earring-buying weirdo who talked about cuddling iguanas. 

_ Fuck. _

"Okay, okay," he said, waving his hands. "It's cool. Never mind."

"What?" Troy shrugged. "I don't get it. Do you want to know or not?"

"Not," Chad answered, reaching out and slapping the ball out of Troy's hands, then catching it on the rebound. 

"Fine." Troy placed his hands on his hips and watched as Chad went for a lay-up. "But hey, you know what else is cool? I make her mp3 playlists. She loves those."

Catching the ball again, Chad hugged it to his chest and looked at Troy critically. "Playlists? Like, what, with themes?"

Troy nodded. "Yeah, exactly. Like, when she rear-ended that car in the mall parking lot last May, and kept crying about it? I made her a playlist with songs that were all about cars and driving and stuff. Actually," Troy muttered, frowning. "That one wasn't such a big hit. But I made her one about summer, and then one about friendship - you know, for school starting up again - and then one for--" he abruptly cut himself off, his cheeks flushing from more than the New Mexico heat.

"Yeah, no," Chad said, his eyes suddenly wide. _God_. "I don't want to know about that one." He shook his head and twirled the ball on his fingertip for a couple seconds, then pitched it back to Troy and grabbed his water bottle. "So that's it, huh? That's your great romance advice?" Taking a seat against the wall of the garage, Chad knocked back a swallow of water. "Flowers, jewelry, stuffed animals, and music?"

"What else is there? I don't do poetry, man." Troy shrugged, and then he grinned. "Why do you want to know, anyway?" His grin widened and his voice took on a wheedling tone, and Chad inwardly cringed. "Dude, you got something going on? Trying to put something together?" He sat down on the grass opposite his friend. "Who? Tell me who!"

"I'm not telling you, man," Chad scoffed, trying to cover up the sudden horror he felt at the idea of Troy knowing _who_. "You can't keep secrets for shit."

"Oh, it's a _secret_ ," Troy said. "High drama. All right." He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on his elbows. "Not Taylor, been there and done that. Except that she wouldn't let you. Let's see, Lisa? No. Ooh, Jessica-- no wait, she's sleeping with Adam. But that's supposed to be a secret, because she's still mad at Billy. Gwen? But she's--"

"Troy, seriously. Stop," Chad interrupted Troy's roll call of the cheerleading squad, and shook his head. "Listen to yourself, man. I swear you spend too much time with girls these days."

"Eh." Troy shrugged, and didn't look the least bit concerned. "They smell good."

"They smell good," Chad echoed in a mutter, and shook his head. "God."

* * *

Ryan tapped his pencil against his lips and tried to look like he was paying attention. Ms. Parker was droning on and on about defining the six trigonometric functions on a unit circle, the classroom was way too stuffy for comfort, and by his count at least three of his classmates were in comas. Maybe four.

He smothered a groan and sat up straighter in his chair, trying to stretch an incipient cramp out of his shoulder. It was perfectly logical that when he turned his head his eyes would follow, and naturally it was due to nothing more than that when he suddenly found his gaze on Chad, who was sitting two rows over and one seat back. It's not that Ryan was _aware_ of Chad sitting there, of course not. Having knowledge of something and having actual awareness of something were two entirely different things, and, sitting in class day after day, one tended to notice who else was there.

That was it, really.

But today when he glanced over - he was _stretching_ , honest - something was wrong. It took him a long moment to puzzle it out, but once he did, his blue eyes flew open wide.

Chad... wasn't looking at him.

Ryan frowned, and let his gaze linger. Just to be sure. Chad had been watching him in class for weeks-- sometimes taking notes, sometimes looking at the teacher, but always returning his stare to Ryan every other minute or so. Like he was checking in. Now, all of a sudden... it wasn't right. Something was definitely off. 

Twisting back to face the front, Ryan glowered down at his notes. What the hell was Chad thinking, all of a sudden not looking at him? It had been bizarre enough when it started in the first place, but at least once he started then Chad had been consistent. So now.... Ryan didn't like it. He hadn't liked it when Chad had gotten so unpredictable on him in the first place. And he liked it even less now. 

He continued to puzzle over it through the last minutes of class, then gave up at the clanging of the bell. He was _not_ going to look, oh hell no. Just in case Chad suddenly should decide to check him out again, Ryan definitely didn't want to be caught looking back.

But a sudden thump on his desk had Ryan jerking back in surprise. "What--?" He watched Chad stroll out of the classroom, and then looked at the paper bag that had suddenly landed in front of him. Moving cautiously in case it was - oh hell, he didn't know what, but as long as Chad was being so damn unpredictable he figured it was best to be safe - Ryan poked a finger into the bag and pulled it open. He blinked in confusion, and then reached his hand in and pulled out a silver mp3 player, a one GB size by the looks of it.

Plastered across the display screen was a shiny red bow.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Ryan muttered. He stood up and shouldered his messenger bag, then closed his hand around the mp3 player.

It took him a few minutes to track Chad down, and that fact just irritated him even more. So much so that when he finally caught up with Chad in the hallway he didn't even bother with preliminaries.

"What the hell is this?" he said, waving the player - bow and all - at Chad.

Chad shrugged, like he wasn't being a complete tool. "Just some music."

"Some-- what?" Ryan looked at him incredulously. "You're... wait, are you giving me music?"

"Yeah. I made you a playlist," Chad answered, and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. He met Ryan's stare without flinching. "You do like music, right?"

There was not enough sarcasm in the world to satisfy Ryan at that moment. " _Obviously_ I like music," he retorted. "What do you think you're--"

"Look, I just--" Chad interrupted him, but then abruptly fell silent. His brow furrowed suddenly, and he leaned closer to sniff the air. "Ryan, you-- you smell... kinda good."

Ryan's jaw dropped. It was a full three seconds before he managed to close his mouth. "You're scaring me," he said bluntly, still staring at Chad in horror.

"Yeah?" Chad grinned, and he didn't seem bothered at all. "Good."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just what the heck was on that "Smooth Jams" playlist Chad gave Ryan anyway?

Ryan had already listened to the stupid thing twice through – okay, so maybe it was more like five times, but it’s not like anyone was counting – and he still couldn’t determine a single recognizable theme, anywhere.

  
Clearly, Chad was a complete amateur.

Not that Ryan shouldn’t have already known this, as he ruefully reminded himself. After all, Chad was used to charming girls out of their bras with nothing more than a flash of that gorgeous grin of his, so it’s not like he’d ever had to _try_ before. Ryan, though—Ryan was not so easily charmed. And if he’d ever let himself notice that Chad’s grin was, indeed, gorgeous, it had certainly been in a purely ‘aesthetic appreciation’ sort of way. Like that smile was a piece of fine art. Van Gogh’s _Starry Night_ , perhaps. Or Degas’ _Blue Dancers_. Or Michelangelo’s _David_ …

No. Ryan was _not_ going to think about naked men at the same time he was thinking about Chad. It was just a really bad idea.

Ryan sighed, and tucked the mp3 player back into his dresser drawer, beneath a neatly folded pile of boxer shorts. It was starting to get to him, this whole Chad thing. More than he’d admit to anyone, even Sharpay. With the looking, and then the not-looking, and then the gift… When Chad had first started chatting him up at that party weeks before, it had seemed harmless enough. But then Chad had worked his arm around Ryan’s shoulders, pretending for all the world like it was just a purely innocent ‘we’re like brothers’ man-hug type of thing. But then he’d started pressing closer, laughing loudly at Ryan’s jokes – even the ones that were really kind of pathetic – and staring right into Ryan’s eyes. That whole universal ‘making meaningful eye contact and holding it’ signal—there was just no mistaking it.

That was the point at which Ryan figured it was up to him to move things along, and he’d dragged Chad off to the laundry room. Although, to be fair, Chad hadn’t put up any kind of fight. 

And yeah, Ryan had enjoyed himself. And obviously, Chad had _definitely_ enjoyed himself—Ryan had seen to that. Personally. But the fact that Ryan genuinely enjoyed giving head, well, that was just a major factor of why he was so damn good at it. For one thing, he knew that even though he was on his knees, his posture as submissive as could be, he held the power. And he loved that, loved breaking down a guy’s defenses and dragging whimpers out of him, no matter how macho – or straight – he seemed to think he was. Ryan knew that with a little free rein, he could make a guy sweat, tremble, _need_.

It was crazy exhilarating. 

Sure, maybe he’d had his eye on Chad for a while. But that was just to be expected. After all, Chad was a damn fine specimen of a young man in his prime, just past that awkward adolescent stage, and really starting to relax into the confident man he’d soon become. And Chad was _hot_ , with that awesome athletic body, all taut muscles and lean limbs, moving with a natural effortless grace and smiling like he was friggin’ king of the world. 

Gabriella could have Troy. Ryan was interested in something even better.

But that thing, the thing where Chad didn’t play by the rules—didn’t stumble away with his pants down and try and meld seamlessly back into his normal life, all the while knowing that Ryan had fucking rocked his world, and knowing that Ryan knew it too. There was a real edge in that, not that Ryan would ever take advantage of it; he wouldn’t. But still, he liked _knowing_ it, and knowing that they both knew it.

But Chad… Ryan sighed again, deeper this time. Chad was throwing him off balance. What the hell was he doing, anyway? For all the world it looked like he was trying to woo Ryan or some archaic shit like that, and the very idea was just laughable. Ryan did not do the boyfriend thing. Of course, a large part of that was due to the fact that no one ever asked, and yeah, maybe that had something to do with how he only ever hooked up with straight-leaning guys. But still! So not the point. The point was that Chad was clearly stepping out of bounds, and it should never have happened.

And if Chad ever bothered to ask, then Ryan was going to tell him so.

* * *

But unfortunately, when the confrontation came… Ryan just didn’t have a chance.

“It’s been four days,” Chad announced, materializing out of thin air after last period one afternoon, and leaning back against the locker next to Ryan’s.

“Four days?” Ryan echoed, determined to look like he was totally consumed with searching for his history book, and not in the least bit rattled by Chad’s sudden appearance.

“Yeah. Since I gave you… you know.”

“Uh-huh.” Ryan pulled off his sapphire newsboy cap – it did wonders for his eyes, he knew – and combed his fingers through his hair, then settled the cap firmly back in place. “Yeah, I know.”

“And?” Chad was too close, way too close, and Ryan’s mind hurtled off-track for a moment, trying to identify his cologne. Whatever it was, it was entirely too enticing. 

“And… what?”

“ _Ryan_ ,” Chad muttered, and Ryan gave up with a roll of his eyes.

“What? You want to know what I thought, or something?” He slammed his locker shut and turned to face Chad full-on.

“Yes. Exactly. I do,” Chad insisted, like redundancy would score him extra points or something.

Ryan exhaled, then drew a slow breath back in, gathering his resolve. “It’s probably the stupidest mix I’ve heard. Ever.”

Chad’s eyes went round with shock, and then his face fell. Ryan’s jaw tightened, but he was _so_ not going to notice how crushed Chad looked. Because that would just set him back days in this whole Operation: Disentangle thing he had going on.

“You—you think—why?” Chad asked, still looking like he’d just been informed that Santa was one hell of a huntsman, and he’d just shot and roasted the Easter Bunny.

“Not a single unifying theme, Chad,” Ryan pointed out, “not one! No intact genre, no one cohesive message… do you even know how this works?” And okay, maybe he was laying it on a little thicker than necessary, perhaps implying that he thought even less of the gift than he actually had, but this was a desperate time, calling for desperate measures. Chad needed to _stop_.

So that Ryan could finally try and think about someone else.

"There is too a theme," Chad said, obstinately stepping up to the plate. 

"Come on—Ben Harper, Nada Surf, _Jonny Lang?"_ Ryan asked, hitching his messenger bag over his shoulder. "And Pearl Jam. Seriously, what are you? Thirty?"

"There's a unifying theme," Chad insisted again, and stepped in a little closer, until he was starting to crowd Ryan back against the bank of lockers. "Don't you want to know what it is?"

Ryan swallowed, grateful that the hallway had all but emptied, the other students headed home, or to practice, or to work. "Sure," he said, and wished like anything his voice sounded just a little meaner. 

Chad stared at him in silence for a long moment, until Ryan started to worry that his heartbeat was a little too fast, his breathing just a little too shallow. And at any second, Chad might notice.

But if he did, he didn't say anything. Instead, Chad quite blatantly dropped his gaze to Ryan's mouth, then looked up to meet Ryan's eyes again before saying softly, "They're all songs that make me think of sex."

_Oh. Fuck._ Ryan's mouth went dry, and his breath shuddered out in the instant before he woke up and tried to steal back his self-control. "Right," he said, trying to manage as much sarcasm in a single syllable as he possibly could. "Because nothing says 'romance' like Nine Inch Nails."

But that didn't faze Chad at all—damn it, how did Chad keep getting the upper hand?—and he just smiled, that slow wicked curving of lips that was sure to haunt Ryan's dreams for nights to come. He leaned in even closer, until Ryan could feel the sheer intense heat radiating off his body, and when he whispered his next words, the warmth of his breath blowing over Ryan's cheek had Ryan shivering with lust. "I didn't say romance. I said sex."

And for what had to be the first time, Chad strolled away and left Ryan in the dust. 

Because Ryan was suddenly so hard he couldn't even walk.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Chad's playlist  
Massive Attack - "Inertia Creeps"  
Nine Inch Nails - "The Becoming"  
The Rising - "Cradle"  
A Perfect Circle - "Thinking of You"  
Ben Harper - "Please Bleed"  
Audioslave - "I am the Highway"  
Folk Implosion - "The Natural One"  
VAST - "Lost"  
Jonny Lang - "Give Me Up Again"  
Pearl Jam - "Wash"  
Three Fish - "Solitude"  
Nada Surf - "If You Leave" (OMD cover) 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan decides two can play at Chad's game.

  
“Hey,” Chad answered back, and damn his dark eyes were nearly fiery when he got so intense. Ryan tried to conceal the little shiver that sent down his spine. “Did you change your mind?”  
  
Ryan lazily pulled another book from his locker shelf, then turned to look at Chad like it was an afterthought. “About what?”  
“About the _music_ ,” Chad growled, and Ryan nearly smirked.

“I don’t know. I still think it was lacking something.” Ryan shut his locker door and turned to lean back against it, his eyes on Chad’s. “As far as sexy mood music goes… “ he scoffed. “Are you sure you didn't want to throw in some Lords of Acid? Maybe a little Fear Factory?"

"Geez, dude, what have you been listening to?" And Chad looked at him like _Ryan_ was the crazy one.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “What have you been thinking about?” he replied, deliberately dropping his voice to give it a husky edge. 

Chad quirked an eyebrow. “You know that,” he muttered, not backing down for a second.

“Uh-huh.” Now Ryan let the smirk out in force. “Maybe you should try a little harder next time?” 

“Harder?” Chad echoed.

“Harder,” Ryan confirmed, laughing softly. “Like, maybe go for something you’re good at. Skip the music.”

“Skip the music,” Chad repeated under his breath, like he was just talking to himself while he puzzled over the concept. "So what are you saying, like, you'd rather I gave you a teddy bear with little hearts all over its shirt?"

Ryan blinked, his composure slipping for a moment. "...Don't ever talk to me about teddy bears again," he ordered, and shook his head. He took a step closer to Chad, until he had to tilt his head back just a tiny bit so he could meet his eyes. “I mean, if you’re serious?” He licked his lips, watching the way Chad’s focus instantly went to his mouth. And stayed there. Ryan pursed his lips and leaned in to whisper in Chad’s ear. “Impress me.”

* * *

Impress him. _Impress him?_ Chad rolled his eyes and thumped his head back against the wall. Not that anyone noticed; Jason and Troy were on their feet and battling on Jason’s Wii, and Zeke was too busy howling commentary.

“Yes! Yes yes _yes!_ ” Troy shouted, jumping in place. “I rule! I am king!”

“You’re a dickhead’s what you are,” Zeke said with a laugh, but opened his hand for Jason’s controller and then gamely took his place for the next round.

The new match started up, and Chad scooted over on the couch so he could attempt an actual conversation with Jason. “Hey, man. Can I ask you something?”

“Huh?” Jason glanced away from the plasma TV screen a full beat later, then looked at him in curiosity. “What?”

“What would you say I’m good at?” Chad tossed a pretzel into his mouth, trying to play it cool like the answer didn’t really matter one way or the other.

“What would I…?” Jason looked deeply introspective, like he was pondering the mysteries of the universe and not just answering a simple question. “Oh. Um, you mean like defense?”

Chad rolled his eyes and swallowed another groan. “Nothing else?”

Jason shrugged, and then gave him his usual goofy smile. “That’s not enough? Man, I’d think that’d be good enough for anyone.”

The room abruptly exploded into howls once more, only this time it was Zeke sticking his tongue out and cackling, and Troy tossing his controller aside in disgust. “Man. Are _you_ a crappy winner,” Troy griped, sitting down heavily next to Chad.

“Come on, man, next round!” Zeke said, looking to Chad in challenge.

“Oh, um. I—“ Chad started to get up, but was pulled up short by Jason’s next words.

“We’re having a very serious conversation here, actually,” Jason put in, and then suddenly all three of them were staring at Chad like he’d just announced he could really go for some good karaoke right then.

“What? Nothing,” Chad said with a shrug, but there went Jason and his mouth, _again._

“Chad wants to know what he’s good at. Like, besides defense,” Jason explained, his tone all sweetly helpful. “Oh, and third base, because you know you totally rock third base, man,” he said in assurance, and this time Chad couldn’t help but grumble under his breath.

“Um. What?” Troy glanced aside at Jason, but then went back to staring at Chad. Then he shrugged like it was all normal anyway. “What kind of stuff?”  
  
“Just… stuff,” Chad insisted, starting to grow uncomfortable under the weight of their collective inspection. “You know, like, if I wanted to impress some girl. Or something,” he added, because he was still playing it cool oh yes he was. “Girls really dig me because…” he let his words trail off suggestively.

“Um. Because you have cool hair?” Zeke offered after a moment.

“Yeah, he does!” Jason agreed, nodding away like a stupid bobblehead. “And… and… um.” He chewed on his lower lip meditatively.

“Or hey, you know what?” Zeke continued. “You never look like you’re having a bad day. I mean, even when you are, you still look like, I don’t know. Um, like you’ve got it all under control, even if you’re really pissed off.”

Chad looked at him curiously, surprised, but before he could press that line of thought the Idiot Twins were continuing on.

“Oh, but your car kind of sucks. I mean, yeah, it’s used and it’s all you’ve got, but it’s still a hoopty,” Zeke pointed out, and Jason nodded again.

“And your jumpshot. It could maybe use a little work. I mean, you’re still a really important part of the team and all,” Jason rushed to reassure him, “but it doesn’t look quite as smooth as it could, you know?”

“Oh, and his rebound!” Zeke exclaimed. “You never pass on the rebound, and I think—“

“Guys, this is not twenty questions!” Chad snarled, his cheeks flaming.

“Why do you want to know?” Troy asked, speaking up for the first time.

Chad swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “…What?”

Troy met and matched his stare, those blue eyes seeming way too full of insight for once. “I said, why do you want to know? I mean, let’s face it Chad. You’ve never had a problem with your self-confidence before. And you’ve never had to ask what girls like about you before, because they always let you know on their own.” Troy twisted to rest his arm on the back of the couch, and a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “I think you got shot down.”

“What? No way!” Zeke’s eyes were round with shock.

“That’s total bullshit,” Chad snapped, stung.

“You _did_ , you did!” Now Troy was outright laughing at him, and holy shit his best friend clearance was so close to getting revoked. “First you wanted girl advice, and now you want to know how to impress someone, and—“ he snickered.

“Ohhh, wow,” Jason breathed. “I never thought I’d see the day.” He fell blessedly silent, but for Chad it just could not have been soon enough.

For long moments, the taut silence among them was broken only by Troy’s giggles. “Hey,” Zeke spoke up, and swatted Troy on the arm before turning back to Chad. “I could bake some cookies for her. I mean, not for me to give to her. But, I mean, like I could give them to you and then you could give them to her. You know? And I don’t need the credit or anything,” he insisted, waving a generous hand. “You could even tell her you made them, I won’t mind. So, you know. If you think it’d help.”

Chad sighed, vaguely touched by Zeke’s offer but on the whole completely exasperated with them all. _I am a fool. I am a fucking fool,_ he chided himself inwardly _._ He had to be, going to those idiots for dating advice. “I did _not_ get shot down,” he insisted, glaring at Troy. Just to make sure that rumor went no further. “I just didn’t score yet, is all. It’s not the same thing. It’s not!” he snapped when Troy started up laughing again.

He pushed to his feet with a grumble. “You guys fuckin’ suck,” he muttered, stalking out of Jason’s living room.

“I worked up a new cherry chocolate macadamia recipe!” Zeke called out, but Chad let the door slam shut behind him.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad makes his next move. Who's refereeing this game, anyway?

Ryan didn't know what Chad would do with his 'impress me' suggestion. Nothing, maybe. Probably. Ryan liked to think that a good challenge would get Chad's competitive spirit stirred up, would have him doing backflips to catch Ryan's attention... but as the days passed without even a word exchanged between them, Ryan began to worry that maybe he'd played just a little _too_ hard to get.

He frowned and tried to re-focus on the essay he was writing for civics class. The research was mostly done, but he needed to organize it. He'd written nearly all of the intro, and had a pretty good idea what was going to go in the conclusion, but that still left the entire body of the paper to be written. And even with an iced Diet Coke and his study playlist on repeat and all of Google at his fingertips, dear God how the hell was he supposed to concentrate on a stupid friggin' essay when all he could think about was how he'd totally blown his shot with Chad?

"Straight," Ryan reminded himself in a mutter. "Straight straight straight."

So maybe it hadn't truly been much of a shot in the first place. But Chad had been so persistent – for a week or so, anyway – that slowly Ryan had turned that corner and started considering him in a whole new way. "What a waste." Ryan sat back from his laptop and scrubbed a hand through his hair. This? _This_ was why he had that whole 'one night only' policy in the first place. Get what he wanted (or give it, anyway), then cut them off quick and clean, like a surgical amputation. And then Ryan could stroll away feeling victorious, and never have to worry about anyone's _feelings_.

Particularly not his own.

He sighed and pulled at the v-neck of his shirt and tried to settle more comfortably into his chair. "Jefferson," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "The impetus for the early expansion of an independent party... what the hell?" He jerked upright at a sudden thump from outside, then stared through the French doors leading to his private balcony. It _might_ have been just that his eyes were playing tricks on him, leading him to see impossible things in the glare of the lamp reflecting his own image back at him from the glass. Or it _might_ have been....

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Still gaping, Ryan clambered out of his chair and crossed his bedroom to open the balcony door. "What the hell are you doing?"

Chad shrugged, and strolled on in like he owned the place. "What you told me to do," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets and turning in a slow circle as he checked out the room. “Nice set-up you’ve got here,” he remarked, eyeing himself in the full-length mirror next to Ryan’s bed.

“Doing what I told you to do?” Absently Ryan pushed the door shut behind him. “In all the times we’ve talked, I’m pretty sure ‘breaking and entering’ didn’t come up once,” he replied.

“You opened the door,” Chad pointed out. “I didn’t even have to break in.” He turned back to face Ryan again, and Ryan could _feel_ the way Chad’s gaze moved over his body, the t-shirt that was just a little too tight, the loose yoga pants clinging low on his hips. It made him feel exposed, almost naked. And it was waking up pieces of him that he really didn’t want awake right now.

“Fine. You just go on ignoring the obvious weirdness about you climbing up to my balcony.” Ryan shot him a frown and folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t tell me you actually read _Romeo and Juliet_ in Darbus’s class last year.”

“Of course. You are too hot.” Chad grinned, and sauntered a few steps closer. He licked slowly over his top lip, and Ryan tried to cover up just how much watching that little move shook him. “Best line in the whole play.”

“Right.” Ryan uncrossed his arms and put his hands to his hips, hoping he wasn’t coming across half as nervous as he felt. For effect, he drummed his fingers against his thigh. “Were you going to give me some kind of explanation at some point, or are we pretending this is all normal?”

Chad shrugged, and _damn_ him for looking so calm and collected. “You told me I should do something I’m good at,” he said, and gestured towards the balcony. “I’m completely awesome at climbing trees.” A grin spread slowly across his face, and he stepped in, closing the distance between them. When Chad spoke again, his voice was husky, and he was near enough that Ryan could see the deep gold flecks in his eyes, catching the light. “Want to know what else I’m good at?”

_ Yes! _ “No,” Ryan said, bluffing on a bad hand. “No wait, let me guess. Stalking?” he retorted, glaring to cover his confusion. 

“I don’t think it counts as stalking when you asked for it,” Chad murmured, and reached out to lay his thumb lightly against Ryan’s bottom lip. Ryan’s breath caught instantly, alarms started going off in his brain and shrieking _Abort! Abort!_ but it was too late, he couldn’t move in time before Chad had pulled his thumb away and replaced it with his mouth.

Ryan nearly melted into a puddle on his bedroom carpet. He whimpered softly into Chad’s mouth, and brought his hands up to clutch at Chad’s shirt. He’d spent some time wondering before about whether Chad was a good kisser or whether he just _thought_ he was, sure. But Ryan sure hadn’t been prepared for this. Chad’s mouth moved softly against his, his tongue pushing gently between Ryan’s lips. It wasn’t rough or insistent, not the impatient fumbling of a typical teen boy out for whatever he could get. But it was demanding just the same, and damn it Ryan’s knees were actually _weak,_ every ridiculous storybook cliché suddenly spinning through his mind and overwhelming him. 

It felt like an eternity before Chad pulled back, and Ryan’s cheeks flushed hot when he realized it was another whole eternity before he managed to drag his eyes back open. He tried to focus on Chad’s face, and was kind of surprised to find that he wasn’t smirking. He didn’t look smug at all, actually, his gaze staying steady and serious and locked on Ryan.

“I’m pretty good at that,” Chad whispered, and somehow he managed to not sound half as conceited as he should have. His small smile winked briefly at Ryan, and then he was pulling the French door back open, and climbing up onto the balcony railing.

Ryan watched him go, and somehow regained the presence of mind to step back and shut the door again before Chad hit the ground and looked up and _watched_ him watching. Because that would give him away for sure.

Not like the kiss hadn’t given him away already, Ryan realized, and he covered his eyes with a groan.

* * *

_That was it. That was it. That was it._ The words drummed through Chad like his new mantra, echoing along in time with the thumping of his feet as he jogged down the street, hanging a left at the intersection to head back to his own house. _That was it. Was it okay? Did I do it right? Should I have touched him? Should it have felt different? Should it have felt THAT different?_ He shook his head and grumbled under his breath. 

His first gay kiss. Should he be thinking of it in capitals? He wondered. His First Gay Kiss, that was better. Made it seem more official, more distinctive, more... “Crap,” Chad muttered, and halted on the sidewalk to brace his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. He had no friggin’ clue if it was different because it was gay, or if it was different because it was _Ryan_. But there was one thing Chad was sure of, and that was that he’d never experienced a kiss quite like that before.

It shook him, turning his confidence to rubble, shards of former-certainties raining down around him. Up till that point, the whole thing with Ryan had kind of been a game, some pissing contest to get Ryan to admit that if Chad wanted him to pay attention to him, then Ryan damn well _would_. Because that didn’t have a thing to do with gay or straight, it was all about showing who was on top, who could bring it and work it and take home the trophy. Ryan was just an amateur compared to Chad, right? And Ryan had for sure underestimated him from the start.

Chad hadn’t been planning on that kiss. 

  


[   
](http://purelyfic.livejournal.com/7449.html#cutid1)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad is determined to get Ryan to listen to him, whether or not it's a good idea.

  
If there was one thing The Kiss had been good for – and okay, so maybe it had actually been good for a lot of things, in terms of hormones and boundaries and outright flippin’ confusion – but if there was _one_ particularly notablething it had achieved, then that was that Ryan was obviously not playing Chad’s little game anymore.

Which meant that Chad had won, right? Even if it was just by default.

But funnily enough, Chad wasn’t feeling especially victorious. Because, before, Ryan had been shooting him those insufferable all-knowing smirks, and yeah it was kind of a relief not to keep sweating those. But instead, Ryan had replaced those smirks with completely not looking at Chad at _all._ As a matter of fact, from what Chad could tell, Ryan had totally wussed out on the whole thing. Not only had he stopped all the flirting and teasing and come-hitherness that he was so devastatingly good at, but he was suddenly doing a fair approximation of pretending that Chad didn’t even exist.

And that? Chad did not like that. At all.

Sure, he was dealing with a bit of personal upheaval himself. That tried and true, ‘Am I really gay if I only want _him?_ ’ question was looming large. Then there was the startling discovery that, three times out of four, Chad was now thinking about Ryan when he beat off (and the fourth time had coincided with the delivery of his mom’s new Victoria’s Secret catalog, to no one’s surprise). And what about the fact that even though Chad had won, he still didn’t feel good about it? Yeah, his mind kept circling back to that one.

How _dare_ Ryan ignore him? And for real, this time—there was nothing of that sly ‘I can make you want me’ attitude left. It was like Ryan was desperately hoping that if he ignored Chad long enough, then Chad would forget about him right back.

Not. Happening.

Clearly, Chad needed to talk to someone. And this time he was absolutely _not_ going to his friends. No, he needed to talk to Ryan, whether Ryan liked it or not. But even when Chad went so far as to get right in Ryan’s face after homeroom one day, Ryan still managed a quick deer-in-headlights impression, and then he bolted. Chad knew he had to get devious.

So that’s how Ryan came to be cursing colorfully – and rather inventively, Chad thought – into his steering wheel one day, trying again and again to start his BMW convertible’s streamlined 230 horsepower engine. It was a car Chad could appreciate, on the whole, although he’d never have pegged Ryan for the ‘Hello, Officer!’ red type. He was even looking ahead and thinking that, if things went well, he might get a chance to drive Ryan’s car really soon.

But said car wasn’t going anywhere just yet.

“Dammit idiot monkey _fuck!_ ” Ryan snarled, and Chad just had to laugh.

“Monkey fuck?” he asked, just to be sure. His grin faded a bit when Ryan jumped, then got that freaked-out look again, hunching into himself like he just wanted to get away.

“Um. Yeah,” Ryan muttered after a moment, then quickly returned his attention to the steering wheel. After a few more unsuccessful attempts at the ignition, however, he gave up and smacked the dashboard in frustration.

“I could help, you know,” Chad pointed out, after giving reality a few seconds to sink in really deep.

“You could help,” Ryan echoed, his voice so flat it wasn’t even a question. “Right.”

“I could,” Chad insisted, strolling closer to lean against the car. He crossed his arms casually over his chest, and looked down at Ryan with an easy smile. “I know a lot about cars.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks,” Ryan muttered after a moment, but then shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll call a mechanic.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and looked at it in bemusement for a second, like he was waiting for it to dial itself.

“You could do that,” Chad agreed, and tried not to notice how adorable Ryan’s pout was. Or at least, tried not to _be_ noticed, noticing that. Then he pulled a compact metal cylinder, about the size of his palm, out of his backpack. “Or....”

Ryan glanced up at him, then squinted at the thing in his hand. “What is that?”

Chad shrugged. “The alternator.”

“The—“ Ryan broke off and stared, then gaped in horror. “You _broke_ my _car?”_ he yelped.

“Hey, now,” Chad said, holding up a palm. “It’s not broken. ‘Broken’ suggests something’s damaged and it needs to be fixed. This...” he said, holding up the alternator, “I can just put this back anytime, no problem.”

The expression that dawned on Ryan’s face was one Chad had never seen before. And for the sake of Ryan’s blood pressure, Chad sincerely hoped that he’d never see it again. _“What the fuck is wrong with you?”_

“Whoa!” Chad held up his hands like he could ward off the onslaught. Then he thought better of it, and quickly snuck the alternator behind his back. “Just, um,” he said, eyeing Ryan like he would a hissing cobra. “Just pop the hood.”

Ryan did, and then Chad gave him a few wary seconds before he dared to get close enough to prop the hood up. “Okay, here’s the deal,” he announced, peering around to meet Ryan’s glare. “I’ll put this back. But you have to give me five minutes. No, ten,” he amended.

For a long moment, Ryan didn’t answer, and the way he was grinding his teeth was kind of starting to make Chad nervous. “For. What.” He spat the words out like they tasted bad.

“To talk,” Chad ventured, then shrugged and gave Ryan a disarming smile. Which, by the looks of it, didn’t disarm him one bit. “I just want to talk to you, Ryan. You’ve been avoiding me for days. How was I _supposed_ to get you to stay in one place?”

“Of course,” Ryan muttered. “Just resort to vehicular vandalism. Yeah, that’s totally the first thing that leaps to mind.”

“Well, it worked,” Chad pointed out. He held up his hand and waved the alternator. “What do you say, is this worth ten minutes of your precious time?”

Ryan glared at him again, but Chad lifted his chin and stood his ground. “Fine,” Ryan finally said. “Fix it. And get in. But don’t bother to start talking yet,” he ordered, “because I am _so_ not ready to listen to you.”

Chad grinned and leaned over to get to work. He put the alternator back in and plugged in the connection wires, then went to put the cover for the engine bay back in place. “You know,” he said conversationally, because, could it hurt to be helpful? “You really should get this belt replaced.”

“What?” Ryan called back from the driver’s seat.

“I said, the alternator belt’s wearing out,” Chad answered, a little louder. “You really should— _motherfuck me!”_ The blare of the horn filled his ears and reverberated painfully inside his skull, and he stood up so fast he smacked into the hood. “Fuck!” he yelled again, rubbing the back of his head. He tried to glare at Ryan, but he really couldn’t see past the stars dancing in his eyes.

It was just as well, really, because _now_ Ryan was back to smirking. “Okay,” he said, and Chad could just hear the grin in his voice. “Now I’m ready to listen.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how old they get, boys still can't handle being called "chicken."

Flush with victory or not, it didn’t take long for Ryan to lose his smile. He tried to focus on the road, the music blaring from the speakers, the wind raking fingers through his hair. Come to think of it, there was also the cloudless blue sky, the sun beating down, the oncoming traffic, the... _Damn it._ Like Ryan could think about _anything_ else when Chad was sitting in the passenger seat.

At least with the music turned way up, there was no chance of conversation. Which seemed to be just fine with Chad for the moment, as well. But Ryan didn’t like to think about just what Chad had meant, with his, ‘Give me ten minutes.’ Ten minutes for _what?_ Ten minutes to talk Ryan’s ear off about something which would inevitably just embarrass them both? Ten minutes to...?

Preferring not to think about it anymore, Ryan shook his head and slowed his car as they pulled off the main road and into a residential neighborhood. He counted silently down the row of houses, then pulled over just past a driveway dominated by a Toyota Corolla which had clearly seen its best days sometime in the early 90s.

Chad looked at the house, then looked at Ryan. “What are we doing here?” he asked, sounding more annoyed than confused. “This is my house.”

“I know. It’s where you live,” Ryan pointed out, and let the engine idle. “Where’d you think I was going to take you? Make-out Point?”

Chad folded his arms across his chest, and turned in his seat to frown at Ryan. “You promised me ten minutes, man.”

“I lied,” Ryan retorted, and gestured towards the house. “Go.”

“No.” Chad shrugged, and relaxed back against the fine leather seat. As if to complete his carefree posture, he then hitched up his legs and rested his feet on the dashboard, the toes of his dirty sneakers just inches from the windshield.

“Oh _hell_ no,” Ryan snarled, and an instant later realized that was exactly the response Chad was goading him into.

“Oh gee, I’m sorry,” Chad said mildly, but didn’t move his feet. “Did you want to negotiate, or something?”

“I want you to go away and leave me alone,” Ryan grated out, his hands clenched white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

“Right.” Chad nodded, and pulled off his sunglasses to start fiddling with them. “You want that just like you didn’t want me to kiss you. Sure. I believe you.”

“Would you _not_ bring that up?” Ryan exclaimed. “Please? For both our sakes!”

“Aww, come on, Ryan. Why wouldn’t I bring that up?” Chad’s lips pursed with annoyance. “You wanted that kiss, and so did I. And now I want another one.” He eyed Ryan, one dark eyebrow raised high. “And so do you.”

“Like hell.” Ryan glared at Chad, infuriated by his arrogance. “You just can’t take a friggin’ hint.”

“Okay, seriously? This hot and cold shit is starting to get really old,” Chad retorted.

“Yeah. But if you’d been paying attention? You’d have noticed that it’s _all_ cold now.” Ryan looked pointedly at the house, and then looked back at Chad.

“Uh-huh.” Chad snapped his gum, and the sound was like a gunshot in the tense silence stretching between them. He took the spit-shiny pink wad out of his mouth, then pulled open the glove compartment, peeking inside like he was looking for a place to stick it.

“Don’t. Even,” Ryan growled under his breath, and Chad’s grin winked before he tossed the gum out of the car to the pavement below.

“See, that’s what interests me, really,” Chad said, like he was just continuing aloud with some conversation they’d been having telepathically. “Why _are_ you so cold all of a sudden? It was your idea to hook up in the first place.”

“You hit on me!” Ryan protested.

“Yeah.” Chad nodded agreeably. “And then you dragged me away from the party and pulled my shorts down. So, really,” he pointed a finger at Ryan, “You. And then you acted like it was no big thing. And then you started doing all that sneaky flirting shit in class, looking at me and then pretending like I never caught you looking.”

“I didn’t—“

“I _caught_ you, dude. So shut up. And then...” Chad’s voice trailed off and he squinted up at the sky. “Where was I? Oh, right. So then you came on to me outright, telling me I should impress you if I ever wanted to get some again—“

Ryan shook his head frantically. “I never said—“

“Quit interrupting me already!” Chad actually had the nerve to look exasperated. “And then I kissed you, and it was a fucking _amazing_ kiss, if I do say so myself.” He looked thoughtful for a second, and then he nodded. “Which I do. And ever since then...” he met Ryan’s eyes and then shook his head. “What are you? Scared?”

Chewing his bottom lip, Ryan kept silent. Because really, it was so much easier than trying to explain himself and grab Chad and withdraw and howl his indignation over the whole stupid set-up, all at once. “I’m not scared,” he said eventually. Quietly.

He could feel the weight of Chad’s serious gaze on him, and then a moment later Chad shifted closer and he could feel the heat of Chad’s hand against his thigh. “Really? You look it.”

“You’re amazing. You’re absolutely astounding.” Ryan grabbed Chad’s wrist and shoved his hand away. “You are beyond conceited, you know that? Just because I don’t want anything to do with you, you’re acting like there’s something wrong with _me?_ Get over yourself, Chad.”

Chad was – blessedly – quiet for once, and Ryan kept his focus on the road in front of his car, watching heat shimmer off the pavement. And he began to hope that maybe he’d really gotten through this time.

But no, no such luck. Because then Chad opened his big stupid mouth and started talking. Again. “All right,” Chad said softly. “Prove it.”

Ryan frowned. And then he turned in his seat to frown at Chad, for good measure. “Prove... what?”

“Prove to me you’re not scared,” Chad replied, and that stubborn light of challenge was back in his eyes. “You kiss me this time.”

“This time?” Ryan spluttered in disbelief. “What do you mean, this time? There’s no this time! There’s no next time! If you even think that—“

“Ryan!” Chad laid his hand on Ryan’s cheek, and oh yeah, Ryan shut up fast. And then Chad trailed his fingers along the nape of Ryan’s neck, and it felt like the bottom of his stomach just dropped right out. “Just kiss me.”

Ryan’s breath stuttered out, and he wondered _seriously_ what the _hell_ was going on? “Right here?” he whispered, staring at Chad. “In broad daylight, in front of your house?”

“You think I don’t have the balls?” Chad asked, quirking an eyebrow. “I can worry about myself, man.”

Frowning, Ryan studied Chad’s face. He searched him for tells, signs of dishonesty, cruelty, something that would conveniently explain just how this completely absurd moment in time came to be. And he found... nothing. _He actually really wants this,_ he realized. And okay, so maybe that _was_ fear wrapping itself around the base of his spine. But if Chad was game, then Ryan couldn’t let his own cowardice win. Because would he ever get a chance like this again?

The question echoed in his mind as he slowly leaned closer. The lushness of Chad’s lips was mesmerizing, once he actually gave himself permission to notice it, and so Ryan let himself surrender to the urge to trace his fingertip around the shape of Chad’s mouth, a butterfly-light caress. Chad swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and Ryan tuned in to the way Chad’s breathing suddenly seemed to come a little faster, a little shallower.

 _Truth enough_ , Ryan figured, and he leaned in to slowly lick along the seam of Chad’s mouth. Chad’s lips parted then, but he stayed passive, letting Ryan slide like honey in to taste him. Ryan lifted his hand and laid it on Chad’s shoulder, feeling the taut muscles beneath his fingertips, the way the fabric of his shirt bunched in his hand when Chad moaned into his mouth and slid his hand up Ryan’s thigh.

 _Oh. Yes._ This was what he’d been running from for the past week? Maybe it was time to rethink things. Ryan wrapped his hand around Chad’s bicep and shivered at the feel of Chad’s tongue rubbing against his own. He barely heard the girl call out, her voice sounding like it was coming from miles away, but suddenly Chad stiffened and drew back.

“What, Maya?” he said sharply, turning to look over his shoulder at the girl standing barefoot in the driveway, holding a cordless phone in one hand.

“It’s for you,” she answered, looking at Ryan uncertainly.

Chad huffed out a sigh and let go of Ryan. He clambered out of the convertible without a word, but then leaned in to brush flecks of dried mud from the dashboard, souvenirs from his sneakers. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said quietly, meeting Ryan’s eyes before turning away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan Evans is not the only one with a scheming sister.

Some things simply weren't meant to happen. No child of Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz was ever going to have a normal name. The Vikings were never going to win a friggin' Super Bowl. And Chad Danforth... was never going to be his baby sister's Show & Tell toy.

"For the last time, Maya. No!"

"But Chad—“

“I’m serious!”

“But if you could just—“

“ _No!”_ Chad paired this last refusal with a stony glare, and crossed his arms defensively over his chest, just for good measure.

Maya, however, was not one to give up so easily. After all, Danforths had a _lot_ of stubbornness to work with.

“We’re learning about alternative lifestyles in health class,” she insisted, matching her brother’s rigid determination inch for inch. “And stupid Mike Benoff is already making jokes about faggots. Are you going to let him get away with that?”

Chad stared at her in horror. “Don’t say faggot!”

“Why not?” She shrugged.

“Because... I don’t know, because it’s friggin’ rude,” Chad retorted, hunching his shoulders. “And ignorant. And... really obnoxious.”

“I _told_ you,” Maya replied. “Mike Benoff! You could just come to class with me – fifteen minutes, Chad, that’s all it would take – and just... set him straight,” she decided. “Or something.”

Chad suppressed a groan, and buried his face in his hands. “Set him straight,” he muttered—like that wasn’t an ironic turn of phrase for the moment. But he really didn’t think Maya was quite _that_ devious. Yet. In a few more years... well, he certainly wouldn’t put it past her. 

“Maya, no,” he told her, his voice firm. He sighed, and collapsed into a sprawl on his bed. “Look. I’m sorry your classmate’s a dickhead. I really am. But I am _not_ going to be your... your... science project.” Maya was pouting – Chad could _hear_ it from where he was – and he shook his head and continued on. “Besides, I really doubt your teacher would appreciate it.”

“No, she would!” Maya insisted. “Miss Andrukonis is so cool! Adam Walker’s older brother used to smoke lots of pot, but he’s clean now, and Adam brought him into class to talk about it. And Miss A thought it was awesome!”

“Miss Andrukonis?” Chad muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “What the hell kind of name is that, anyway?”

“It’s Greek, stupid. And quit being so ethnocentric!”

Chad groaned and sat up. _Schooled by a twelve year-old_ , he thought. It was just his luck. “That was a rhetorical question,” he informed her, “I actually wasn’t looking for an answer—“

“And you can’t be all ignorant like that anymore, anyway!” she insisted, a light of self-righteous triumph flaring in her brown eyes. “You’re gay!”

Chad’s jaw dropped. He gaped at his sister in silence for a long moment, until she shifted uncomfortably. Like maybe – just _maybe_ – she had some inkling of just how far she’d overstepped a sibling boundary.

Or maybe... not.

“So, is that guy your boyfriend? Have you been dating him in secret from Mom and Dad? Does Troy know you’re gay? Do you always go for blonds? What do you guys _do_ together?” Maya paused in her litany of questions – she had to stop for breath _sometime_ – and Chad seized his opportunity.

“Out,” he ordered, taking her by the elbow and pushing her firmly towards his bedroom door. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to anyone about me, especially not Mom and Dad. And _don’t_ ,” Chad added, his mind rioting with horror, “don’t ever _think_ about me and some guy, any guy, ever again.” He shoved her into the hallway, and closed the door behind her. He didn’t slam it, not with the way his mother had that irritable _thing_ about slamming doors, but he leaned all his weight against the wood and twisted the lock shut at the first possible second.

Too bad it couldn’t stop the sound of her voice.

“You don’t have to be ashamed, you know!” Maya yelled from the hallway. “And you can talk to me anytime you need to! And if you ever want—“

Chad took a flying leap onto his bed and buried his face in his pillow. “God, just kill me now.”

* * *

As it turned out, though, God didn’t. Saturday morning came along and Chad was trying very very hard to be grateful for that fact. But his sister was still making it very _very_ hard to do so.

“Let me drive your car.”

“No.”

“Come on, Chad! Just to the elementary school and back!”

“Maya, you don’t even have a learner's permit! What the hell are you thinking?” Chad scooped up a spoonful of cereal and popped it into his mouth, glaring at her all the while.

“Hey, this was _your_ big idea,” she pointed out. “It’s your own fault if you can’t come up with a decent bribe.” 

Chad’s eyes nearly bugged out with the pressure boiling up inside him. “You can _not_ ,” he hissed, “ _blackmail_ me so that you won’t out me to Mom and Dad!” He peered nervously over his shoulder, just to make sure no one could overhear them, then turned back to glare at her. “It’s none of your fucking business, it’s not your job, and you’re pure evil!”

“Mom’ll be pissed if she hears you using the F-word again.” Maya took a bite of her toast, looking entirely unconcerned with Chad’s growing fury. 

“Maya!”

“Car, Chad. Or shopping—you know Mom never lets me hang out at the mall by myself.”

“Yes. I’m going to subject myself to being dragged back and forth between Hot Topic and Forever 21 for four hours,” Chad snarled. “That is exactly how I want to spend my Saturday.”

“I’d settle for three hours.” Maya only shrugged in response to Chad’s groan, but then she was blessedly quiet for a few seconds. 

Not nearly long enough. 

“It’s not healthy to keep that kind of thing in, you know,” she remarked, like she was some kind of junior social worker. “You won’t be able to be comfortable with who you are until you can be honest with yourself, that’s what Miss Andrukonis says.”

“Maya—“ Chad’s voice was deteriorating into a growl. And it ticked him off that even that didn’t seem to be working. “Shut the hell up already.”

“Actually, Mom and Dad kind of have a _right_ to know, and it’s for your own good, and—“

“They don’t—you can’t—this isn’t—“ Chad’s words dissolved into splutters, and damn it she was _snickering_ at him with her eyes, he could _see_ it.

He took a deep breath, then another, trying to regain some slight measure of self-control.

“Once around the block,” he grated out. “And that’s it.”

“Twice.”

“Once!” Chad shot back, incredulous at her nerve.

“Twice, or I’ll put a rainbow bumper sticker on your car.”

Chad shook his head. “You’re evil. You’re practically a—practically a vulture.” Maya folded her arms across her chest and waited. Across the room, Chad’s cell phone started blaring its T-Pain ringtone— _I’m sprung, y’all she got me...._ “Twice,” he barked, then shoved away from the breakfast table.

_Got me doin’ things I’d never do...._ He angrily snatched his phone from the counter, but couldn’t get the snarl out of his voice soon enough. “Hello?”

There was an apprehensive pause. Then, “Chad?”

Chad blanched, the blood quickly draining from his face as he recognized Ryan’s voice. “Yeah. Hi.” He shot an alarmed look at his sister, and then bolted for the stairs, taking them two at a time. “What’s up?” he asked, a bit breathless when he shut his bedroom door behind him. 

“Umm, nothing really.” Ryan still sounded uncertain. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah. Yeah,” Chad assured him, trying to sound breezy. “Totally fine.” He caught a glimpse of himself in his bedroom mirror and realized that he was standing there nodding like an idiot, like Ryan could see him. He glared at his reflection, then flopped down on his bed. “You?”

“Yeah. Good.” There was a pause and some unidentifiable rustling on the other end of the line following Ryan’s words, and Chad had to bite his lip to keep himself from nervously rushing in to fill the conversational void.

_Cool_ , he told himself. _Calm._ He could hear Ryan inhale deeply.

_Calm. Right._

“So, um,” Ryan began, “are you doing anything tonight?”

“Tonight?” Chad frantically searched his memory. It was Saturday night, of _course_ he had plans. He and Troy had a longstanding late-night DVD tradition – or, okay, sometimes it got pushed back to Sunday, since Gabi had come on the scene – it was supposed to be zombie night tonight, Chad had already scored a Romero from Blockbuster.... “Um, sort of. Nothing big.” He shrugged. “Why?”

“Oh. I just—I wondered if maybe you wanted to hang out, or something.”

_Or something?_ Well, hell. If Troy could blow off Zombie Night, then so could Chad, damn it. He caught himself nodding stupidly again, but this time he barely cared. “Sure. That’d be cool,” Chad answered, congratulating himself that he sounded totally suave and not the least bit jumping-puppy-eager. “What do you want to do?”

There was a pause. “Um.” And another. “What do you want to do?”

_You,_ Chad thought, but managed not to say it aloud. It wasn’t like Ryan to sound so uncertain, and he found he kind of liked it, kind of liked thinking that it was maybe because Ryan was just as completely un-suave as Chad himself in that moment. 

Then again, maybe there really was something to that uncertainty after all. Chad’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out just where on earth they could go—was this a date? Should they hit the movies? Grab a cheeseburger?

...Be completely and obviously out on a date in extremely popular local date-type places where they were almost certain to be seen by people they saw on a daily basis?

“Um. Your house?” Chad had seen very little of the fabled Evans mansion, but he'd seen enough to know that Ryan had his own TV in his own bedroom. “I could bring a DVD.”

“Which one?”

Chad glanced aside at his desk. “Um. Land of the Dead?”

This time the pause was long enough for Chad to start regretting suggesting something so really really stupid. “Ohhhkay,” Ryan said eventually. “Let me give you my address. You can come to the front door this time.”  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What, Ryan? Panic? Surely you're joking.

"Red. Red is fine. Red works with white, white works with black, and black works with everything." Ryan nodded at himself in the mirror, then blanched and tossed aside the shirt he'd been holding up to his chest, hanger and all. "No. Black is bad. Black is boring. Too conventional," he muttered, rummaging through his closet yet again. "Blue. Blue brings out my eyes, makes my lips look even redder, and... God, no. TV glare. I'll look washed-out." He was so involved in his project – the harsh _scree_ of metal on wood as he shoved more hangers aside – that he didn't even hear Sharpay enter his bedroom and take up a pose by the closet door. "Green," he recited to himself. "Non-threatening, just a hint of shine, and... damn it!"

"You traitor," Sharpay drawled, eyeing her brother as he whipped around to stare at her in startlement. "You're having a wardrobe crisis and you didn't even _tell_ me?" she demanded. "Your own sister! Cast aside like last season's shoes!"

Ryan huffed out a breath and dropped the green button-down – maybe it was just a bit _too_ shiny – then shrugged like all the assembled evidence meant nothing. "It's no big deal. I'm not having a crisis."

Sharpay's perfectly-plucked eyebrows rose as she silently surveyed the carnage at Ryan's feet, a muddle of silks and sparkle. "So I see." Stepping delicately, she hooked a shimmery paisley dress shirt out of the pile. "What's wrong with this one?"

"It's pink," Ryan pointed out, like that should be explanation enough.

"It's _mauve,_ Ryan."

"I _know_ it's mauve, Shar!"

"And suddenly that bothers you... why?" she asked, letting the fall of satin hang from her fingertip. He mumbled something unintelligible, chin to his chest, and she blew out a breath in exasperation. "What was that?"

Ryan shot her a glare. "I said I think it's maybe a little too fabulous!"

Sharpay blinked. " _Too_ fabulous?" she echoed, horror etched on her painted features. She tossed the shirt aside and braced herself, hands on hips. "Who are you, and what the hell have you done with my brother?"

With a groan, Ryan brushed past her and crossed the room to flop face-down on his bed. He could hear her stalking across the bedroom after him, her stilettos digging into the plush carpeting, and in seconds the mattress dipped as she lay down next to him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he muttered, the words smeared against the duvet.

"Yeah. Right." Sharpay rolled to her back and stared up at the ceiling. "Pink is mauve, Heidi Montag has taste, and there is no crisis here. Ryan..." she pushed her arms out to her sides and stroked them upwards, like she was making snow angels on the satin duvet. "What are we dressing for?"

"We. Are not. Dressing," he answered, but he rolled over to stare at the ceiling as well. Pity there was nothing interesting there to look at. 

"Mm-hmm. All right." Her tone of voice was distracted, a warning that the gears of her mind were already engaged and hard at work, which meant he had very few moments of peace left. "It's Saturday, Marco and his brother are both in  Rome , Philip has that godawful magazine heiress to squire around.... Please tell me you're not going to 80's Night at Fifth's," she exclaimed suddenly, pushing up on her elbows to stare at him in shock.

"What? No," Ryan answered, and shuddered as if the prospect of all-night Thompson Twins and Erasure was just too horrible to contemplate. 

"Well..." Sharpay chewed on her lower lip in renewed doubt. "What then?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You'd better not be planning your outfit for Angela's gallery opening already, you _promised_ me we'd coordinate."

"Shar..." Ryan sighed and let his voice trail off. "It's not that," he said after a moment, letting the words slip out reluctantly, one by one. "I have a...." 

He couldn't say it. He could barely _think_ it.

And she, apparently, couldn't guess it. "Zit?" Concerned, Sharpay sat up to inspect him closely, laying her hand on his cheek and turning his head from side to side. "You're worried about dressing not to draw attention to it? I have that new concealer... oh, you do _not_."

Ryan rolled his eyes. " _No,_ " he ground out, "I have a..." he sucked in a breath and tried to force courage to the surface, "I have a date."

Sharpay... was dumbfounded. "Are you kidding?" she asked, though the flat tone of her voice suggested she didn't find it funny in the least.

"No, I'm not kidding," Ryan snapped, stung. He sat up and glared at her. "What? You think I can't get a date?"

"No," she scoffed, and looked at him incredulously. "I think you _don't_ , which is not the same thing at all. Who on earth would you even... if it's Stefan from Joelle's boutique, I am so going to kick your ass," she exclaimed suddenly. "He's a manipulative little shit and he's just using you, Ryan, I swear!"

Ryan's jaw dropped and he gaped at his sister for long seconds. "...What?"

Sharpay groaned and pressed her hands to her eyes. "Just tell me it's not," she insisted, "tell me so that I don't have to go put out a swish-and-hit on him."

"It's not... God," Ryan said, frowning at her words. "No. Not him. Not... not anyone you know," he added, praying that she'd believe it. Well, she'd certainly stopped his anticipatory panic dead in its tracks, though she'd only replaced it with other worries. 

"Good." Sharpay pressed her lips together in a thin line, then nodded firmly. "All right, so we move on. In or out?"

"In, or...?"

"Keep up, Ryan!" She all but snapped her fingers in his face. "We're working the problem! So are you staying in, or are you going out?"

"Oh. Um, in, I guess," he answered, swallowing hard.

"In, in, in," Sharpay murmured under her breath, the light of a challenge flaring in her eyes. "Did you choose your hat yet?"

"What? No, I—no," Ryan replied in bafflement, but she was already off and stalking back into his closet. 

"You're not working from the top down?" she called back, her disapproval evident in her voice. "You can't be working from the bottom up, you don't have the shoes for it." She suddenly poked her head out of his closet, and pinned him with a sharp gaze, her eyes way too penetrating. "Is this your first date?"

Ryan blinked, and he puzzled over just how to answer that one. "Umm... yes?" he offered after a long moment. "I mean, yes."

"Uh-huh. The Ryan Special. Now complete with an encore?" Sharpay shook her head. "That's so very unlike you, no wonder you're panicking."

"I'm not--" Protests rose instantly to his lips, but Sharpay was mercifully burying herself deeper in his closet already, and so he let his retorts go unsaid. 

They wouldn't have been that convincing anyway, he was pretty sure.

"I have found it!" Sharpay declared, strolling past the mountain of rejected clothing to display a pair of slate gray slacks – which Ryan knew to be just a shade too tight – paired with a silk shirt of deep blood red, tones of granite hinting from the fine pin stripes. "A little touch me, a little come-get-me," she said, and twirled a gray fedora on her fingertip. 

She tossed the hat to Ryan. "Walk in front of him," she advised. "He won't be able to take his eyes off your ass."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whose stupid idea was this date, anyway?

  


Ryan had breathed a sigh of relief when his sister finally strutted out of the house on her date’s arm. The guy in question was a new one, only on Sharpay’s string for a few weeks yet, and it was plainly evident that he just wasn’t the brightest light on the tree. Although he did seem to be making up for it in other ways, if the size of his dirty sneakers was any indication.

But really. Sharpay, going out with a guy who didn’t even know enough to wear real shoes on a date? Ryan locked the front door behind them and rolled his eyes. It could only end badly.

Alone in the house, _finally,_ he was able to turn his thoughts back to his own trainwreck of a social life. He checked his watch and sucked in a nervous breath. Then he forced himself to exhale slowly, deliberately, breathing out his worries and breathing calm back in. He pressed his palms together and slowly raised them over his head, feeling tranquility spread through his body like a warm glow, peacefulness radiating outwards until there was no room for doubt. Ryan smiled faintly, opening himself up to solace.

Then a car door slammed, and he jumped like he’d just stepped on a live wire. “Shit!” he muttered, peeking through the beveled glass panels of the front door. Then he quickly stepped back, because could it get any worse than having Chad catch him peeking? He looked around frantically, and his shoulders abruptly slumped when he realized one downside of having the house to himself for the evening: there was no one else to answer the door.

The bell chimed – a quick tinkling flourish reminiscent of Stravinsky – and Ryan frowned at the door. It was too late to run for the mirror, and so he made do with smoothing the blood red silk of his shirt, checking the creases of his slacks, and adjusting his hat. Then he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, waiting, waiting....

The doorbell rang again, and Ryan sighed. It was too late to back out now _._ He unlocked the door then pulled it open, giving Chad a crooked half-smile. “Hey.“

Chad, he noted, was wearing dirty sneakers. _So much for romance._ “Hey.” Chad nodded stiffly at him, then abruptly held out a DVD case, as if in lieu of a bouquet.

“No candy, either?” Ryan asked, and Chad’s jaw tightened. Well, good, he figured; it would be unbearable for him to feel so stupid and Chad to look calm. Bad as it was, it was still much better for them both to feel like idiots. Unity in stupidity, or something like that.

“Come in,” Ryan said, and waited as Chad brushed past him. The whiff of cologne was a surprise, and Ryan knew it wasn’t something Chad bothered with all that often. It didn’t smell bad, actually.

Too bad Chad had made the strategic error of bathing in it.

Ryan locked the front door, then gestured towards the wide staircase. “I think you know where my bedroom is,” he murmured, and turned to lead the way.

If he could _feel_ Chad’s eyes on him as he climbed the stairs, well... it was only because he was taking Sharpay’s advice.

* * *

“Ohhh, man _down!_ ” Chad snickered gleefully as a zombie tackled an unsuspecting victim from behind, complete with spurting blood and gnashing sound effects, in awesome high-def stereo. He loved Romero films. They were gory, they were classic, they were....

...Completely horrible, judging by the look of frozen distaste on Ryan’s face.

_Oops._ Okay, so Chad had been worried initially that maybe Zombie Night with Ryan was kind of a bad idea. But Ryan had said it was okay, and Chad reasoned that, gay or not, Ryan was still a guy and therefore would still be totally into awesome guy stuff like nasty special effects and a barely coherent plot full of rotting corpses....

No, it wasn’t a bad idea. It was a _terrible_ idea. 

He peeked at Ryan again, watching the harsh glare of the TV play over his pale face. “I, um,” he said, and chuckled nervously. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

“Really?” Ryan didn’t even look aside at him, just continued to frown in disbelief at the plasma screen dominating his bedroom wall. “I was just having the same exact thought.”

Chad nodded, and chewed on his lower lip. _Fuck_. He was boring the hell out of his—his date, whatever. Of course, it wasn’t like Ryan could walk out on him, seeing as how it was Ryan’s house. Maybe Ryan would get annoyed enough that he’d actually kick Chad out?

“Did you—I mean, do you maybe....” Chad’s voice trailed off before he got his question out, and he shifted on the sofa so he was facing Ryan. Ryan, who was way on the other end of the couch. Which, Chad recalled, was so completely not the point of this evening.

Maybe the plan itself wasn’t the problem. Maybe the flaw had been in thinking he was really there for the movie at all.

Ryan raised an eyebrow and returned his stare. “What?”

Chad shrugged. “I was going to ask you if maybe you wanted to watch a different movie,” he explained, now completely ignoring the rampaging zombies in favor of Ryan. Because an unholy hunger for brains had _nothing_ on the lust Chad had been dealing with lately.

Ryan sighed and gestured towards a glass-front bookcase against the wall. He didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it. “I have _RENT, Velvet Goldmine,_ everything Eric Bana’s ever done—“

“Or maybe not,” Chad cut in, but then his brow furrowed. “Wait, Eric Bana?” He frowned. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” Ryan just looked at him in challenge. Chad half expected to be asked if he wanted to make something of it.

He didn't. “Okay, whatever,” Chad said, brushing the whole topic aside with a wave of his hand. “Let’s forget about the movie.”

“That movie?” Ryan asked, tilting his head towards the flashing screen. Which currently displayed a shambling dead-eyed creature, staggering ominously towards some half-naked chick who didn’t even have the sense to run.

A blood-curdling scream split the air – in awesome high-def stereo, of course – and Chad winced. Then he grabbed the remote control and put the film on pause. “Yeah. That one.”

“I thought that was your kind of thing,” Ryan said quietly, and rubbed a hand over his eyes like he was tired. 

“It’s not—I don’t—“ Chad stopped mid-sentence, and frowned. “It’s not why I’m here,” he said, daring Ryan to meet his eyes. “Is it?”

Ryan looked at him, but then his gaze skated away. “I don’t know,” he said, and shook his head. He stood up, brushing invisible lint from his pants – and _damn_ those were tight, Chad was really amazed he’d been able to sit down at all – then folded his arms across his chest. “Let’s just call it a night, all right? I mean, this is obviously not—“ he sighed, and apparently gave up on the soft sell. “This has got to be one of the dumbest ideas either of us has ever had. So, ahh, thanks.” He waved a hand towards the door. “Thanks for coming over. I’ll see you in school."

Chad blinked. That... was not cool. He inhaled deeply, then slowly blew the breath out, trying to keep himself from just snapping and saying something stupid and snarky that would totally kill any chance he had. Then he stood up and slipped his hands into the pockets of his baggy plaid shorts. “What is that?” he asked, stepping closer to Ryan. “You’re, like, dismissing me? Showing me the door?”

“Literally,” Ryan pointed out, but he didn’t look annoyed so much as disappointed. “Enough experimenting, okay?”

That brought Chad up short, and he looked at Ryan in bafflement. “Ryan, I—I haven’t even begun experimenting,” he said, his cheeks flushing with warmth. _This_ was what it had all come down to?

“I meant me,” Ryan mumbled, staring at the carpet. “No encore. Just forget it.”

_No encore._ Chad frowned, puzzling through Ryan’s words. Then he shook his head. “Fuck that noise,” he muttered, reaching out to pull Ryan into a kiss.

It wasn’t like the last time, when Ryan had been so uncertain but had sent sparks up Chad’s spine just the same. And it wasn’t like the first time, when Chad had talked so big but then almost dropped to his knees when Ryan damn near melted for him. This time, Chad was determined to put an end to all the arguing. 

He closed one hand around Ryan’s nape, and laid the other on his cheek, guiding him, holding him. When Ryan made some muffled protest and tried to pull back, Chad didn’t allow it, just swept his tongue in and deepened the kiss until Ryan moaned softly and clutched at him. 

Chad shifted restlessly, trying to get Ryan to move his hands, touch him more. God he wanted that so much, for Ryan to relax and explore him, touch him anywhere he wanted, any way he wanted to. He’d spent way too much time these past few days thinking about Ryan’s hands, those slender but strong fingers graceful on the piano and just as at home gripping a baseball bat. Chad wanted them on him. 

He broke the kiss just to gasp in a breath, vaguely thinking about telling Ryan, okay, or maybe just moving his hands, or they could even try—

Pulling back for a breath had been a big mistake, though. Because apparently, there _was_ no end to arguing with Ryan.

“I don’t think—“

“Shut up,” Chad whispered, and he pushed him, walking him backwards until Ryan was pressed against the wall. 

“But I just—“

Chad growled under his breath and kissed Ryan again, demanding control. He waited, waited until Ryan kissed him back, softening and opening beneath his lips, sighing something that was nearly a whimper, his fingers tangling in the cotton of Chad’s t-shirt. And when Ryan finally gave in, following Chad’s mouth the instant he started to ease back, then Chad slid his hands down Ryan’s back until he was cupping that amazing ass. 

And now Ryan _definitely_ whimpered. Chad hitched Ryan’s thigh up onto his hip and couldn’t bite back a gasp when everything came together and fit just right, friction and heat and the hard press of Ryan’s erection against his own. 

Then Ryan shifted, locking his leg around Chad’s waist and grinding against him and ohmy _god_ , Chad had never been less in control in his life. He was getting frantic now, biting hungrily at Ryan’s mouth and hissing in surprise when Ryan worked a hand under his shirt and raked his nails down Chad’s side. It was too hot too hard too much and Chad jerked Ryan an impossible fraction closer, burying his face in Ryan’s neck when he pumped against him once more, twice, then gasped in the wake of a climax that crashed through him like a tidal wave.

His head was still swimming when he relaxed his hold only to brace one hand against the wall. Chad groaned then eased back to find Ryan kiss-swollen and looking just as dazed. Ryan blinked his blue eyes open, and it took a second before he focused them on Chad.

“Do you always say that when you come?”

Chad stared, completely baffled. “Huh?”

One corner of Ryan’s mouth turned up in a lazy smirk. “’Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod’,” he whispered. “I seem to recall hearing that before.”

_Fuck_. “Um. I don’t know,” Chad replied, and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not usually paying attention.”

Ryan huffed a soft laugh, then looked down at himself. Abruptly his expression changed, and he pulled his shirt out of his pants, only to frown down at a large wet spot now marring the fine material.

“Erm.” Chad frowned at it too, but really it was just a show of loyalty; secretly, seeing the evidence of how much Ryan had wanted him was pretty damn awesome. “Was that a two hundred dollar shirt?”

“More like three-fifty.”

“Oh.” Chad chewed his bottom lip, ignoring the stickiness in his own boxers for the moment. “Is silk hard to get clean?”

Ryan sighed. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that,” he answered, but when he looked at Chad there was laughter dancing in his eyes.   
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad is distracted, Zeke is over-excited, and Troy doesn't even realize that's karma biting him in the ass.

  


After that, it got a little easier. Chad and Ryan still barely talked to each other in school, but it wasn't a tense silence like before. Hell, they still barely talked to each other outside of school, either, but that was only because their conversations now seemed to subsist on a mumbled vocabulary of _Oh, God, Chad!_

Chad couldn't complain, all in all.

He was back to watching Ryan in class, probably a little more than he should. But now a good half of the time he'd catch Ryan surreptitiously checking him out in turn. And that was _fun._ Especially since Chad had figured out that if he locked his gaze on Ryan's, and then slowly ran his tongue over his top lip, Ryan would sometimes blush like it was no one's business. 

Sometimes. And Chad was working on the rest of the time. 

They didn't get many opportunities to be alone together, and concealing those few illicit dates from their friends was even more difficult. But given that they made the most of the little time they had with each other, Chad figured it was pretty okay. 

One Friday afternoon in school his mind was drifting towards late that night - when Ryan had assured him that they'd once again have the Evans house all to themselves - when he was abruptly smashed against a locker by a red-and-white blur with a goofy laugh which he'd recognize anywhere. 

"Screw you, Parkview!" Zeke howled, putting Chad in a friendly headlock. "Who owns it! Who!"

"Dude," Chad muttered, wincing as he tried to shake away the ringing in his ears. "The game's not for another five hours. You need to chill the hell out, or you'll have nothing left when we get Parkview on the court."

"N'awww, come on," Zeke replied, letting Chad go. "We're so gonna kick ass. Say it." He reached out and ruffled Chad's hair. "Say it!"

Chad rolled his eyes. "Yes. We are so going to kick their sorry asses," he said, deadpan. "Better?"

"No, come _on_ , Chad!" Zeke's eyes were big and round and his tone of voice nearly pleading now. "Say it!"

"You're a real dumbass," Chad pointed out, but he couldn't help smiling this time.

"Say it!" 

Hefting a huge sigh, Chad spread his arms wide. "What team?" he asked, all forced nonchalance, and waited for all that ingrained school spirit to kick in.

But another voice cut across Zeke's response. "Dude, after all this time you still don't know the answer to that question?" 

Looking crushed, Zeke swatted Troy in exasperation. "You suck, Bolton!" he exclaimed. "You totally blew my wad!"

"I have no idea what that means, but it sounds dirty," Troy replied, then laughed when Zeke flipped him the finger and swaggered off down the hallway. He grinned and then smacked Chad’s shoulder. “Post-game victory party, my house. I need you to bring the Easy Cheese.”

“You’re going to make yourself sick on that shit, man. Seriously,” Chad warned him, falling into step beside Troy as they set out for their history class. “And all the tiny little aerosol particles are going to start eating away at your brain.”

“You know, you actually make that sound... entirely not fun,” Troy decided, grinning. “Anyway, you know Jason needs two cans just for himself. And he never shares.”

Chad grimaced at the claim – true though he knew it to be – and shook his head. “How the hell does Gabi put up with all your disgusting habits, anyway? It’s bizarre.” 

“Nooo, they’re not disgusting,” Troy protested, “they’re _cute._ And, you know, quirky or whatever. And anyway, she makes me listen to Taylor Swift, so that totally cancels out. Oh, which reminds me,” he said, abruptly turning serious. He stepped aside, pulling Chad out of the flow of students. And he lowered his voice. “I need you to sleep over tonight. Gabi’s mom is letting her spend the night, because she talked to _my_ mom, who promised that it’d be a whole bunch of us. So you’ve gotta stay, all right? You know, like, in case her mom calls my mom and my mom decides to check or something. Cool?” Without even waiting for a response, Troy shot him that trademark victory grin and started walking again.

_Shit._ “Troy,” Chad called out, rushing to catch up with him. “Dude, I’m not staying over.”

“No, you _have_ to, man, I’m serious,” Troy protested, sounding like it was already a done deal. “And don’t worry, it’ll be totally cool. And you should bring Amy, or whoever. Gabi and I will sleep in the guest room downstairs anyway, so you two can have the couch in the basement. It’ll be great!”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s really generous of you, man,” Chad said, rolling his eyes as they entered their classroom. “Don’t think I don’t know what you do on that friggin’ ugly couch. _And_ ,” he said, holding up a hand to stop whatever interruption was on its way, “I’m telling you, I won’t be there.”

“Dude!” Troy shot him a glare and kicked his backpack underneath his desk. “A favor. A _big_ favor. You can’t leave me hanging out in the cold, seriously.”

Chad opened his mouth to reply but then froze for an instant, his glance crossing Ryan’s as Ryan walked into the room. He _might_ have just been imagining the faint suggestive smirk on Ryan’s luscious lips. But he was pretty sure he wasn’t. “Just—“ he swallowed, and forcibly returned his attention to Troy. “Just bribe Jason with can number three of Easy Cheese and get _him_ to stay over.”

Troy groaned and slumped into his chair, then twisted around to face Chad so he could continue his tirade. “What the hell do you care, man? You’ve stayed over a billion times. You can even have the Xbox all to yourself, because I plan to be busy.”

“Yeah, I got that part,” Chad muttered, rubbing his hand over his eyes. Then he took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Troy... I’m not even coming to the party, man.”

Troy’s jaw dropped. “Chad,” he said, and seemed to need another second just to pull himself together. “Chad, it’s _our_ party. What do you mean you’re not coming? You have to come!” He spread his arms, practically pleading. “Parkview almost kicked our asses last year, you know they’re gunning for an upset at the rematch!”

“I know,” Chad said softly, beginning to be a little embarrassed by the way Troy was carrying on. Not to mention that he knew damn well that Ryan – a mere one row to his right and two seats up – was listening in.

Hell, the whole class could hear Troy anyway.

Chad shrugged like it was no big thing. “I have plans.”

“How the hell could you make plans? Tonight? How?” 

“I...” _forgot._ It was the plain and simple truth. And there was no way Chad could tell it to Troy.

“What do—you can’t—it’s our victory party, man!” Troy insisted. “You can’t bail on us!”

“Sorry,” Chad muttered, fixing his eyes on their teacher as she stood up to check attendance. He pretended not to hear Troy’s snide grumbling under his breath.

He didn’t look at Ryan, either.

* * *

But Ryan found him later anyway.

“I didn’t realize the game tonight was such a big deal,” he said softly, leaning back against the locker next to Chad’s and looking down the hallway in the other direction. “I’m sorry. We can, you know, take a raincheck. Or whatever.”

Chad frowned, stuffing his trigonometry book into his backpack, then slamming his locker shut. “No,” he said, his tone short, his lingering irritation with Troy bleeding into his voice. “It’s fine.”

Ryan’s shoulders stiffened slightly, but then he sighed. “Really, Chad. It’s okay. I understand,” he insisted, and dared to glance aside and meet Chad’s eyes for an instant. 

“ _No,_ ” Chad said again, and screw all that discretion bullshit; he moved to stand in front of Ryan and looked him full in the face. Their eyes locked. “I don’t want a raincheck,” he said, quietly but firmly, watching as his words hit and sank deep. Then he shot Ryan a smirk. "You're not getting away that easy, Evans."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad's private victory party with Ryan doesn't go quite as planned.

  


Ryan moaned, the sound lost in Chad’s mouth. His fingers scrabbled at Chad’s shirt, trying to get it out of the way so he could touch the smooth skin beneath. Chad had obviously bothered to take a shower after the big win against Parkview, which Ryan very much appreciated. Even though his mouth had watered while he was sitting in the bleachers, watching sweat bead on Chad’s arms, his neck, and he’d forgotten all about the basketball game in progress—too busy thinking about starting at Chad’s lips and just licking his way down. 

Now, though, he could have his chance. He lay back on his bed when Chad abruptly sat up and yanked his t-shirt off over his head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Ryan grinned, reaching out to grab Chad and pull him back down. His own shirt usually stayed on during these hot and heavy sessions, and his pants _always_ stayed on. Though not Chad’s. And as much as Ryan lusted after the taste of Chad’s skin, the feel of those tight muscles beneath his fingers, the disparity was kind of starting to annoy him. 

By his count, over the last three weeks he’d given Chad four handjobs and two blowjobs, not counting the first one which had kicked everything off to begin with. Plus there was all the frot going on, Chad’s body rubbing against his own as they frantically kissed; Ryan didn’t even keep count of those times anymore. But whether Chad had ever once reached out and touched Ryan’s dick by anything over than sheer accident... well, Ryan wasn’t so sure about that. 

Cancel that. He _was_ sure. And tough as it was to think with Chad lying between his thighs and attacking his mouth, Ryan was determined to change that. 

He shifted on the bed, groaning softly when Chad started licking at his throat. Reaching up, he untangled Chad’s fingers from his shirt, then tried to work his hand down between their bodies. He had almost made it, thought for sure he’d scored points for a sneaky victory, when Chad broke his loose grip and slipped his hand under Ryan’s shirt. 

And that was good. Anytime Chad wanted to touch him, anywhere, that was pretty much awesome by Ryan’s standards. But damn it he was so _hard_ , his erection rubbing against Chad’s thigh through two layers of clothing, which were two too many. 

A quick gasp when Chad nipped at the vulnerable flesh just beneath his jaw – and Ryan could not care less how classless Sharpay deemed them, he thought those hickeys Chad gave him were fucking _hot_ – and then he turned his head, licking deep into Chad’s mouth. And he tried again, capturing Chad’s wrist and trying to push his hand down to where he wanted it, his cock so sensitized and needy now that he felt he might just jump out of his skin if Chad touched him there. And it would totally be worth it. 

This time Chad wrenched his hand away harder, no mistaking it, but then he grabbed Ryan’s ass and _damn it._ Sparks flashed behind his closed eyes as Chad squeezed, yanking Ryan tighter against him. It would be easy, way too easy now to just give in to the orgasm bulleting its way towards him with every hard hitch of Chad’s hips. 

And nearly, _nearly_ , Ryan did. But then he thought about the time before, and then the time before that, and how Chad loved to touch his ass but always treated the front of him like a no-fly zone. 

And Ryan shoved Chad away. 

“What?” Chad sat up, breathless, and stared at Ryan in shock. “What’s wrong?” 

“You,” Ryan answered, struggling to catch his breath and simultaneously glare. “You’re wrong. Why won’t you touch me already?” 

“What?” Chad asked again, but the evidence stood stark in his eyes that he knew damn well what Ryan was talking about. “I _was_ touching you,” he said, his tone already sliding into defensiveness. 

“Yeah, right.” Ryan pushed himself up on his elbows, and shook his head. “You know what I mean. Either stop pretending it’s not there, or quit wasting my time already.” 

Chad blinked. “You—you think this is a waste of time?” For a split-second he looked genuinely hurt, and Ryan verged on just apologizing for the whole thing in a panic and dragging Chad back on top of him. But then anger flashed in Chad’s eyes, and the hell with that. 

After all, it had been Chad’s dumbass idea for them to _date_ in the first place. So shouldn’t the exploration be a little more reciprocal? 

“That depends on you,” Ryan shot back, and sat all the way up, crossing his legs and scooting to the side so that empty space stretched between them. “I like fooling around with you. But I don’t need to be with some guy who treats me like he’s gonna catch a disease. Believe me, I can get off with someone else.” 

“I don’t—Ryan!” Chad gritted his teeth and glared up at the ceiling for a few silent seconds. “You know I’m new at this,” he bit out, now staring at a point somewhere beyond Ryan’s left shoulder. 

“Yes, I know that,” Ryan replied, folding his arms across his chest and waiting expectantly. “And?” 

Chad rolled his eyes. “ _And....”_ He sighed. “Look, Ryan. I really like you. But maybe... maybe I’m just not comfortable yet with... you know.” 

Yeah. Ryan knew. “Uh-huh. And that’s why you just can’t bring yourself to touch ‘you know’?” He mimicked Chad’s faltering euphemism exactly. 

“Well...” Chad hunched into himself, and it was a long moment before he’d meet Ryan’s eyes. And then only briefly. “Yeah.”

_Right_. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Ryan steeled himself against a quick blast of heartsickness, then climbed off his bed. Leaning down, he snagged Chad’s shirt off the floor before balling it up and tossing it. It hit Chad square in the chest. 

Stepping back, Ryan crossed his arms once more and waited in silence.

And Chad just _stared_ at him, like he couldn’t comprehend the simplest damn thing. “What—wait,” he stammered, still looking like he’d just received the shock of his lifetime. “Ryan, this is stupid. I like you, you like me, we’re good together, and you’re kicking me to the curb? What the hell, man?”

Ryan shrugged, determined not to let on how much the casual gesture cost him. “It’s your choice to be disgusted by me. And it’s my choice not to tolerate it.”

“Damn it, Ryan!” Chad threw his shirt aside again and stood up to face him. “I never said I was disgusted by you. And you should _know_ that I’m not, or I wouldn’t even be here. So quit putting words in my mouth,” he insisted, his anger boiling once more. “And don’t act like this should be no big thing,” he continued, changing tack with lightning speed. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever been with. All right? I’ve never touched any dick but my own. And it doesn’t mean I don’t want to touch yours, it just means that I...” he trailed off, deflating a little. “I’m just not ready to.”

The seconds ticked by and Ryan willed himself to stay strong, stand his ground, because he was _right_ , damn it all. He was sure of it. Once he felt that he could finally speak again without spilling ridiculous pleas and self-betrayal all over himself, he strode to his bedroom door. Unlocking it, he pulled the door open and stood to the side, watching Chad with a stony expression.

Because he was _right._ He was... pretty sure of it.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” he said, his voice cold.

Chad was back to looking dumbstruck. After a long moment, though, he shook himself, then grabbed for his t-shirt and skinned back into it. He shot Ryan a death glare and seemed on the verge of saying something more, but then just huffed out a breath.

He left without another word.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad tries to sort out an impossible situation. Sadly, that means dealing with Sharpay and the Thompson Twins.

Fuck Ryan. _Fuck Ryan._ Except... not. But the words kept running through Chad’s head all damn day, and even as angry as he was, one stray thought would just get his head all twisted ‘round, and all of a sudden he’d be back to thinking about the way Ryan kissed, how good he felt beneath him. The way Ryan’s eyes burned when Chad would get undressed, like he was the hottest damn thing Ryan had ever seen. 

_Fuck_ Ryan! 

The situation completely and totally didn’t work, and Chad was having trouble seeing his way clear to a solution. He didn’t really want to break up, if that’s what it was. But it sure seemed like Ryan had ended that fight before it ever started, and kicked Chad out of his life before Chad had been able to half think through the problem. 

And the problem was... what? That he wouldn’t touch Ryan’s dick, seriously? Suddenly that’s where it began and ended with Ryan? Something about that seemed kind of... off. Ryan had seemed pretty happy with things as they were up till that disastrous Friday night. Chad was willing to admit that maybe he’d been a bit distracted what with all the kissing and the touching and the – _oh god Ryan’s lips._ Yeah, so. Maybe he’d even been a little bit selfish. But it wasn’t like Ryan hadn’t been getting off, too! They’d both always gone home happy. 

Chad was sure of it. 

When Troy called up early that evening to make his excuses about missing movie night again – they’d planned on a Marvel marathon: _Blade, X-Men,_ and _The Punisher_ , all in a row, it would have been _awesome_ – Chad couldn’t even be bothered to care. He just rolled his eyes and hung up, then went back to frowning at the ceiling. 

What did Ryan really want from him anyway? Was it really as simple as he’d said? As if Chad could just walk up and grab him – _there_ – and suddenly it would all be fixed. 

Yeah. Right. 

Chad got to his feet with a growl, and snatched up his car keys. 

* * * 

The Evans’ doorbell sounded like some or other classical symphony thing, and Chad was pretty sure he’d heard it on a car commercial at some point. Right then, though, it was just irritating, particularly for the fourth time in a row. Apparently the maid had the night off. _She’s not a maid, she’s our housekeeper,_ Ryan had insisted, but seeing as how they were apparently incapable of answering the door themselves, Chad didn’t see what difference it made. 

“Come on, Ryan,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets, and huddling into his jacket against the biting winter chill in the air. He hadn’t bothered calling first, since he hadn’t thought Ryan would take his calls anyway. Face-to-face, well, it might be harder for Ryan to ignore him. 

If only he would answer the fucking door. 

“You’d better be a delivery man, and they’d better be roses!” The shrill voice from inside set Chad on edge instantly, and oh fuck what in the world had he been thinking? He turned on his heel, glancing back only once, but he didn’t make it down the steps in time before the door swung open. “What the hell?” 

_Fuck._ Chad stopped in his tracks, figuring there was no point in running when he’d already been spotted. “Hey,” he said, turning to look up at Sharpay. 

She frowned down at him, placing a perfectly-manicured hand on her cocked hip. “And I repeat: what the hell?” 

Chad shrugged, trying to look at ease. Totally normal. Not freaking out over her twin brother or anything, oh no. “Um. Ryan home?” 

“Is Ryan home,” Sharpay echoed, drawing the statement out like she was musing over it. “You know, I might just wonder why you’d even ask that,” she pointed out. “After I was finished wondering why you’re loitering in front of my home.” 

“I’m not loitering,” Chad ground out, and tried to summon up some patience. Heaven knew, he was going to need it. “I need to talk to your brother, is all. It doesn’t have a damn thing to do with you.” 

She leaned against the doorframe, still watching him like he was a mildly interesting anomaly in her world, to be tolerated only for as long as he piqued her curiosity. “It’s such a shame you couldn’t think of any way to get his phone number. I believe you two might even have a few acquaintances in common, shocking though it is.” 

Now Chad rolled his eyes. Sharpay putting on her wordy condescending airs came in way second to her usual bitchy self, who would just tell him off and be done with it. Conversation was something he definitely didn’t want from her. “I just wanted to talk to him in person.” He climbed up to the top step, then frowned when she shifted to block the doorway. She was skinny and maybe half his weight, but Chad wasn’t interested in getting into a wrestling match. Too degrading. Instead he merely raised one eyebrow, and waited for her to take the hint and get the hell out of his way. 

Apparently, Sharpay wasn’t too great with hints. 

“Ahh, let me rephrase that,” she purred, and Chad figured that coy voice paired with the distaste in her eyes had to really be too much for anyone to deal with politely. “Perhaps if you _had_ called him, then you could have saved yourself a trip,” she continued. “He’s not here.” 

“Damn it,” Chad muttered, wincing inwardly when her gaze sharpened in interest. “Where is he?” 

“Nowhere you’d ever think to look,” Sharpay answered, and now her attitude changed, focused. She’d moved past plain indifferent rudeness, and Chad could tell he’d definitely caught her attention. 

He kind of wanted the rudeness back. 

“Why don’t you just tell me, and then I won’t _have_ to look,” he suggested. 

She huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. Right.” Folding her arms across her chest, she smirked. “Why don’t you make it worth my while.” 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Chad grumbled, then spread his arms wide. He wasn't too good with patience, anyway. “What the hell do you want, diamonds? I’m fresh out.” 

“Ohh, how sweet,” she cooed. Then she shook her head. “Information.” 

“Google.” 

“Very funny, Danforth. You must be quite the clown in the locker room.” 

“Four-one-one,” Chad shot back, and she shook her head again. 

“Aaaaand I’m leaving,” she replied, turning and reaching out to shut the door. 

“Sharpay, wait!” Maybe it was the edge of desperation in his voice, but something caught her and made her turn around to face him again. “I really do need to talk to him,” Chad mumbled, unwilling to get down on his knees and beg. Although he had a feeling that might work. “In person. It’s important.” She continued to watch him, unmoved. “It’s about, um. It’s about Kelsi. She—she lost her sheet music. Or something.” Chad shrugged, trying to look both worried and disinterested at the same time. 

Sharpay stared at him in silence for a long moment, and damn, it just made Chad feel uncomfortable. What the hell was she _thinking?_ Chad swiped a hand over the back of his neck, feeling cold sweat start to gather and drip down into his hoodie. 

“Right. Her sheet music. That’s very sad,” Sharpay eventually said, her eyes narrowed. “He went to Fifth’s.” Chad looked at her blankly, and she explained, “It’s 80’s Night.” 

“Oh.” Chad blinked. He’d never spent much time at Fifth’s – the crowd at that club wasn’t quite his type – but, okay. Still. “80’s Night?” 

Sharpay shrugged. “What can I say? Even Ryan has flaws.” 

“Right,” Chad muttered, almost to himself. He turned and headed down the steps again, then set off down the Evans’ long curving driveway. 

And he could still feel Sharpay’s eyes boring into him. 

* * * 

Trying to find parking downtown on a Saturday night was a real pain in the ass, and by the time Chad walked up to the club he was already in a pissy mood, after driving around for twenty minutes and then walking four blocks. The bouncer glanced at him once then ignored him, and Chad nearly blew up in his face. The six feet two inches off the ground face. So really it was much better that a girl near the front of the line grabbed Chad’s hand and pulled him to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “He’s with me,” she announced, and blew the bouncer a kiss as they strolled on by. 

“Thanks,” Chad muttered, already distracted and looking around, trying to recognize anyone in the crowd. He took a step away, figuring he could start by checking the tables lining the packed dance floor, but he was pulled firmly back in place. 

“I’m Jenn,” his savior told him. “And you owe me a dance.” She winked at Chad, then started walking him backwards onto the dance floor. 

“No, I really—I’ve got to find someone,” Chad told her, craning his neck for a glimpse of bright blond hair. Or should he be looking for a hat? What kind, black sequins? 

“Sure thing,” she answered, and slipped her arms around him. “In five minutes.” She pulled Chad’s arms around her waist and starting moving her hips in a way that he figured was probably illegal in most of the red states. She was actually pretty hot, long brown hair and killer legs in a short skirt, and she almost distracted him from his mission. Almost. But then he spotted a familiar figure leaning against the wall, flashing a teasing smirk that he knew damn well. 

And he wasn’t flashing it at Chad. 

“Damn it,” Chad growled, and pulled away from Jenn. He hardly registered her grabbing his belt and following behind him as he pushed his way through the crowd. The hat wasn’t black sequins after all, it was purple with a gold stripe – and surely only Ryan could actually make that work – but what really grabbed Chad’s attention was the thick eyeliner ringing deep blue eyes. Not to mention those glossy red lips which were _way too close_ to some friggin’ linebacker of a guy, who had Ryan caged up against the wall and was leaning in like he wanted to take a huge bite of Ryan’s neck. 

And Ryan wasn’t complaining. 

_Oh HELL no_ , Chad thought, and marched over to the pair. 

“Get the fuck off my boyfriend!” 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is finally back in his element, but Chad wants him the heck out of there.

Ryan breathed in deeply, and exhaled on a wicked grin. The guy – his name might have been Tim, it might have been Jim, Ryan hadn’t really been able to hear him over the din of the club and he really didn’t care – smelled strong, musky with a hint of sweat. Maybe a bit more sweat than Ryan was really into just then, but it didn’t matter anyway because Ryan didn’t need him to be perfect. He wasn’t the last one, he was just the next one. And there would always be someone to come afterwards.

_ This  _ was what Ryan was good at, and he was finally back in his element. He flirted. He cast lures. He surveyed a crowd and sized them up, carefully selecting the would-be straight guys who watched his mouth just a little too long. 

Then he reeled them in. It usually wasn’t even that difficult, because the guys like that were looking for a guy like him, whether they realized it or not. They didn’t show up with dates. They didn’t even show up with friends. They wanted anonymity while they scored something that felt dirty, and hot, and just a bit too wrong. And Ryan gave it to them. Because he couldn’t care less if afterwards they felt nervous or conflicted or even angry, so long as they did it far away from him.

Which had been his gigantic mistake with Chad, obviously.

What the hell had he been thinking? It had been a huge lapse of judgment to even hook up with Chad in the first place. But really, Ryan figured he should be forgiven that error, all things considered. Because it sure wasn’t his fault that Chad was so damn hot, hard muscles and blazing energy and that killer Abercrombie smile. Not to mention that Chad had been the one to start up with him in the first place, and not the other way around. 

But since then? It had been nothing but a big frustrating mess. _Except for the sex_ , Ryan’s mind amended, _and the kissing,_ and he mentally growled at that annoying little voice. All right, since _then_ it had been nothing but a big frustrating mess. And the point was, he should have known better in the first place.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Tim/Jim had Ryan’s back up against the wall and he was leaning in closer, which was good, but he was obviously still hung up on his usual het-fixated ploys. 

Ryan was determined to breeze right past all that awkwardness. Waste of time. “No,” he said, his eye contact direct and fearless and completely unmistakable. He laid his hand on Tim’s chest, slowly sliding it downwards. The guy was solid, definitely, and surely as strong as he looked, although Ryan might have liked a little more definition as far as his abs went. Heaven only knew how Chad managed that amazing six-pack of his. He must have been doing something like a hundred crunches a day, and more than once Ryan had licked his way down the benefits, teasing his tongue along those deliciously taut muscles. Ryan frowned at that completely unwelcome thought, then hooked a finger through one of Tim’s belt loops and jerked his hips closer. “I don’t need one.”

What he needed was to get back on the horse, so to speak, although Ryan had never really understood what the big deal about horses was. But as a metaphor, oh yeah – it definitely worked for him. He knew the solution was truly that simple, and he’d come to the club prepared. His pants were so tight that they didn’t hide much, but his pocket did conceal both a condom and a small sachet of lube. He was ready for anything. Not that he and Chad had ever gotten so far that they’d actually needed lube, although Ryan had figured they were working up to it, and he’d been looking forward to it with mouth-watering anticipation and— _Stop it!_ He gritted his teeth in annoyance and then slipped his hand down the front of Tim’s baggy jeans. Tim hissed in surprise, a quick indrawn breath, but he didn’t pull back and he sure wasn’t complaining.

And he was a good size, thick and stiffening fast against Ryan’s fingertips. Ryan had a fleeting notion that perhaps he should have brought more lube, and the thought made him smirk. Because he wasn’t comparing Tim’s cock to Chad’s, he _wasn’t_ , that would be stupid and self-defeating not to mention totally pointless and why the fuck couldn’t he get his mind off Chad already? He had his fingers wrapped around something solid and real and more than adequate, which was way more than Chad was ever going to be to him again because that was done, it was over, they weren’t _dating_ , they would never be—

“Get the fuck off my boyfriend!”

Ryan whipped his hand out of Tim’s jeans without even thinking, his head snapping to the side in shock because there was no way he could possibly have heard right, it couldn’t be—“Chad, what the fuck?” he asked, so baffled in that instant that anger hadn’t yet had the chance to catch up with him. 

“Boyfriend?” Tim echoed, and glanced down at Ryan before looking back to Chad. Then he laughed. “I guess you need to keep a closer eye on him.”

“I’m serious, man,” Chad shot back, his eyes burning with anger in a way Ryan had never seen before. Some random girl was hanging on to him, staring at them with wide eyes, and her jaw dropped. “Back the fuck off.”

Tim shifted his weight and brought one hand down to lie heavily on Ryan’s shoulder, pressing him back against the wall. “It’s not your choice, it’s his,” he said, and even though Ryan had to agree, it was really irritating that Tim was acting so possessive all of a sudden.

Chad, too, for that matter.

“I need to talk to him,” Ryan said, glaring at Chad. And by proxy, glaring at the girl, because she was watching them like they were the best live-action show ever, and what the hell made her think she could just wrap herself around Chad like that? His mouth went tight and he straightened up, pushing against Tim’s grip. 

Tim looked down at him in surprise, and then his eyes narrowed in anger. “Teasing’s a dangerous game,” he said, and for an instant Ryan went rigid with fear. But then the guy let go of him. Ryan edged to the side, covertly exhaling a sigh of relief. Tim glared at Chad, then shook his head in disgust before turning away. “Twink piece of shit.”

The angry words sailed right past Ryan – really, what the hell did he care? – but Chad’s hands bunched in fists and he started towards Tim, fury in his eyes. “Chad!” Ryan yelped in shock, and he grabbed a hold of Chad’s shirt, dragging him away. He pushed through the crowd as fast as he could manage, and only once looked back. He shoved Chad out the door onto the sidewalk, then caught his breath, almost sick with relief that they hadn’t been followed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ryan exploded, completely ignoring the people waiting in line, the bouncer looking down at him. “That guy was twice your size, you idiot!”

Chad stared at him in disbelief. “What the hell is wrong with _you?_ ” he shouted back. “Did you even _know_ him?”

Ryan snarled with frustration and turned on his heel. He couldn’t stalk away fast enough, but he was not going to just lay his dignity aside and run, no matter how much he wanted to get away from Chad. 

It wasn’t working, anyway. 

“What were you going to do, blow him in the alleyway?” Chad spat out, rigid with anger as he kept pace at Ryan’s side. “And if he wanted to snap you in half and then just leave you there, what then?”

“Don’t. Lecture me.” Ryan ground the words out. He dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked his car, climbed in and slammed the door shut. And Chad actually had the nerve to follow, sliding into the passenger’s seat like he had a right to be there.

It really shouldn’t have been a surprise.

Ryan rolled his eyes but just fired up the engine, pulling away from the curb with a screech of tires. 

“That’s bad for the treads,” Chad snapped.

“Shut the fuck up!” Ryan could hardly believe he’d just shouted like that. It was undignified, common, and so unlike him that it was clearly all Chad’s fault. Biting back any further comment, he kept his eyes fixed on the asshole driving way too slowly in front of him. _Stupid one-lane streets_ , he thought. He waited for a break in the thin traffic then yanked the steering wheel to the side, pulling into the opposite lane. He sped up to illegally pass the car before careening back to his side of the road, just edging past an oncoming truck, its driver blaring the horn. Chad sputtered a protest and Ryan just shot him a look. “Do not start with me,” he warned, although he knew it was way too late for that.

Chad growled and slapped his palm over his face, slouching into his seat. But he wisely didn’t try to speak again until they were out of the city center. Ryan schooled his breathing into something less furious, more zen, and gradually relaxed enough so that by the time they pulled into his neighborhood, he could stand to slow the car down to the residential speed limit.

“Oh, okay, let’s go to your place,” Chad said sarcastically, and Ryan felt all that tension just slam right back into him.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kick you out and leave you by the side of the highway,” he muttered, easing his car into the garage. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan gets a heck of a tongue-lashing (not the kind he wanted, though).

Ryan stalked into the house and headed straight for the stairs, feeling Chad hot on his heels. With great restraint he held his anger in check until they reached his bedroom and he locked the door behind them.

But he couldn’t keep it in one second longer than that. “You had no right,” Ryan snarled, turning on Chad. “No fucking right to follow me, or get in my way, or act like you fucking own me. You are not part of my life, asshole.”

“The hell with that,” Chad shot back. “ _You_ had no right to go cruising for some caveman football player. And you’re a fucking idiot if you think that was even safe!”

Ryan ground his teeth together, and bit out his words evenly, one by one. “If it was dangerous, then that was my choice. It’s none of your business. And it didn’t have a damn thing to do with you.”

“Yeah, right,” Chad scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “You got pissed off at me and went out to slut yourself around. Yeah, those things are totally unrelated.”

“Slut myself?” Ryan stared at him, his anger dulled for the moment by sheer disbelief. Then he shook his head. “Chad. Get the hell out of my life.”

Chad seethed in silence for a few seconds, unflinching and implacable. “No,” he said, and strolled across the room to sit down on Ryan’s bed. “You kicked me out once already, and I didn’t get my say. This time you’re going to fucking listen to me.”

_Unbelievable._ Ryan sighed with defeat, his shoulders slumping. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and then pulled out his desk chair and took a seat, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees. Because he sure wasn’t about to join Chad on the bed. “What?”

Chad frowned at him before replying. “You don’t get to do that, Ryan.”

“What?”

“You don’t get to just decide we’re done, and then go start up with someone else,” Chad explained, his voice surprisingly steady. “There are two of us in this relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship,” Ryan protested automatically, but Chad cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Like hell we’re not! We’ve been consistently hooking up for almost a month now, and I know that for me, at least, it’s been exclusive. To me, that sounds like a relationship.”

“Maybe it _was_ ,” Ryan insisted, although he could certainly say he’d had his doubts, “but it’s over now.”

“No,” Chad said, his voice steely, “it’s not. You said to come back when I was ready. Well, I’m here.”

Ryan blinked. “That’s what this is about?”

Chad looked at him like he’d just grown another head. “Yeah. Stupid.”

“That’s really mature,” Ryan grumbled, and rolled his eyes. “You’re saying I’m just supposed to believe that you changed overnight, and suddenly you’ve figured out you’re okay with dick?”

“God, Ryan,” Chad exclaimed, grimacing. “Some people actually need time to _adjust_ to major life-changing revelations, all right?” He shook his head. “You already knew how much I liked you. You just needed to give me a little time to get used to things, seriously. But no,” he continued, standing up and starting to pace back and forth at the foot of Ryan’s bed. “The great Ryan Evans has to have it his way, or not at all. And if he doesn’t get exactly what he wants at the second he wants it, then everyone else can just go to hell.” He turned to wear another trough into the carpet, then halted in his pacing and glared at Ryan. “You think that life philosophy’s gonna work out well for you?”

Ryan dropped his eyes, feeling his cheeks heating up with shame. When Chad put it that way... _shit_. “Some things....” He sighed, still feeling every one of Chad’s words like they had stabbed him. And left him bleeding. “Some things people just shouldn’t compromise on,” he said quietly. “They’re too... much. Too damaging.”

Chad’s frown softened and he crossed the room to stand in front of Ryan. “Well... I mean, that’s what I came to tell you tonight,” he murmured. “I’m not asking you to compromise. I’m just asking you to give me the chance to take things at my own speed.”

Ryan chewed on his bottom lip, considering Chad’s words. They sounded pretty reasonable, all in all. Now that he was calming down some, and attempting to look at things from Chad’s perspective... well, things looked awfully different all of a sudden. And Chad was hardly asking for the moon and the stars, just a little time—time during which they could still kiss, and hang out together, and make out in the cramped back seat of Chad’s beat-up Toyota. Good things.

Or... _You could just cut him off right now,_ that little voice whispered inside Ryan’s head, and seriously, just whose side was that voice on? Earlier in the night he’d kept thinking about Chad when he hadn’t wanted to, remembering the feel of Chad’s lips on his just at the time when he was trying to convince himself that he was better off without. This could be the end of all that confusion, the step that would finally fix the trainwreck they’d started all those weeks ago. Chad could be fine with it or he could be pissed off, and it didn’t have to matter to Ryan one way or the other. Because Ryan would finally be back to his old self, free from stupid arguments about jealousy and time and how come Chad never went commando at school. 

He’d be back to quick and dirty hook-ups with guys named Tim, or maybe it was Jim, and it didn’t really matter because they never wanted to know Ryan’s name either.

“That seems fair, I guess,” Ryan said softly, looking up to meet Chad’s eyes. “I mean, if we’re still... you know. Like we were before...“ he waved a hand to indicate the past two miserable nights. 

“Definitely like that,” Chad replied, his lips curving into a grin. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“I still would,” Ryan muttered, and Chad laughed softly.

“You know what I mean,” he insisted, and yeah, Ryan did. He sighed, and Chad reached out to trace a finger along his cheek, a careless caress that made Ryan’s heart squeeze tight with pain.

“It’s really late,” he said quietly, and looked up at Chad again. “Do you want to just stay over?”

Chad’s eyes were dark and heavy on him, and Ryan’s breath caught at the intensity he saw there. “Yeah,” Chad whispered. “Yeah, I want to.”

Ryan nodded, a casual gesture totally at odds with the way his heart was suddenly thumping crazily in his chest. But Chad abruptly drew back, his eyes widening almost comically. “What?”

“Um. Do you think tomorrow morning you could drive me back downtown?” Chad asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“You want to go back to the club?” Ryan was baffled. “Seriously?”

Chad shrugged, and the bashful smile on his face was so adorable that Ryan smiled faintly back in spite of his confusion. “Yeah. I left my car there.”

A beat of understanding, and then Ryan snickered and got to his feet. “No problem,” he whispered against Chad’s lips.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say hot make-up sex?

Ryan’s bare skin was warm and smooth, his heartbeat thundering against Chad’s palm in a way that made Chad’s breathing quicken with excitement. It was awesome, being able to see – being able to _feel_ – the effect that he had on Ryan. It was nearly as much of a turn-on as Ryan himself was.

And Ryan... was a pretty amazing turn-on. Even now, like this. It was totally different from their usual M.O. For starters, Chad had been naked for nearly five minutes already, and no one had even come yet. It had to be some kind of record. Ryan’s bedroom windows were wide and bare, the curtains tied back so that the light of the full moon flooded the room, making Ryan’s body almost shine where it touched, and leaving fascinating shadows where it didn’t. Chad stared at the contrast of their skin together, his hand splayed against Ryan’s chest. Dipping his head, he licked between his spread fingers, savoring the taste of Ryan’s skin and thrilling at the sudden gasp that fetched him.

The music was just right, quiet enough that it wasn’t distracting, but just loud enough that Chad was aware of The Rising setting the tone for the night. And yeah, it was pretty awesome that Ryan had Chad’s sex mix on his stereo, but Chad wasn’t going to gloat. He had better things to do just then. 

He shifted to his side, putting more weight on his right arm so he could slowly play his fingers over the line of Ryan’s collarbone. He hadn’t ever pictured doing anything like this, certainly not with Ryan anyway. Okay, so probably not with anyone. But there was something sort of hot about it, taking his time, paying attention to the way Ryan breathed, what made Ryan lick his lips, what made those lips curve in a smile. Yeah, Chad was hard. Really hard. But the state of Chad being hard wasn’t really earth-shatteringly unique, and he figured an evening of pushing his patience to its limits wouldn’t kill him. 

“Are you ticklish?” he asked softly, trailing his fingers down Ryan’s chest, and Ryan’s mouth twisted like he was trying not to smile.

“Don’t ask,” he warned in a whisper, but he didn’t push Chad’s hand away. He wasn’t pushing Chad’s hand at all, actually, not to demand something or guide him or anything. He was just lying back flat on his bed, shirt off but boxers on, and letting Chad touch him however. Which Chad appreciated. He’d wanted time, a chance to take things at his own pace. So what if his pace was god-forsakenly slow. What he’d told Ryan was true: he was still getting used to this whole idea of hooking up with a guy. Okay, so some parts of it he’d definitely gotten accustomed to totally fast. Ryan’s mouth, for example—yeah, that hadn’t taken any time at all. But Ryan’s body.... Chad paused, tracing his finger along the waistband of Ryan’s boxer shorts. He could feel that Ryan was practically holding his breath, waiting in suspense to see what Chad would do next. 

Dropping his hand lower, Chad let it rest lightly on top of Ryan’s shorts. The heat flooding off Ryan was amazing, searing Chad’s palm through a thin layer of cotton. And if Chad had ever been fooling himself about just what he was doing and just who he was doing it with – not that he’d say he was, but just _if_ – well, that time had certainly come and gone. Because there was absolutely no way to deny just what it was he was feeling right then. A long hard ridge pressing against his hand, feeling so backwards-familiar and so weird at the same time. 

Ryan sucked in a quick breath, his body rigid like he was forcing himself to stay still even while he was practically vibrating with tension. “What should I...?” Chad’s voice trailed off, and yeah, okay, so maybe he was hesitating a little. Big deal.

“Just—anything,” Ryan whispered back. “Anything you... just touch me,” he answered, and let his hand rest lightly on Chad’s shoulder. 

_Just touch him_ , Chad’s mind echoed, for all the good that did. He traced a finger along the slit in Ryan’s boxers, and then let just his fingertips dip inside to meet heated skin. _There_ , he thought, swallowing around the lump in his throat, and it wasn’t so bad, it wasn’t—okay, so it was flippin’ weird. Ryan’s dick was rock-hard, straining against the fabric of his shorts, and Chad felt a twinge of sympathy because, yeah, he knew that state was no fun at all really.

Ryan felt hot, and dry, like satin stretched tight over steel; he wasn’t at all wet, or soft, or... _Stop it_ , Chad ordered himself, gritting his teeth at his idiot mind which damn it totally _would_ start thinking about girls at completely the wrong moment. He pushed his hand deeper into Ryan’s boxers and curled his fingers around Ryan’s erection, daring to squeeze tight for an instant before relaxing his grip. Ryan made a choked sound and Chad damn near stopped breathing, pulling back so he could see Ryan’s face in the dimness.

“It’s fine,” Ryan whispered, propping his head up on his arm so he could watch Chad. “Please, just—more,” he said, and Chad bit down hard on his lower lip. _More?_ “Just—move your hand some,” Ryan whispered after Chad sat frozen for another moment. “Stroke me, maybe,” and okay this was just dumb, Chad _knew_ how to jerk a guy off. It wasn’t like he needed written instructions, or anything. Hell, he could probably draw the stupid diagrams himself. 

His teeth ground down into his lip and he shifted his angle, tilting his wrist so he could wrap his whole hand around Ryan’s cock. And he stroked. He really hoped that Ryan couldn’t see how he was gritting his eyes shut but god he couldn’t _watch_ —not at first, anyway. He kept moving his hand, keeping his rhythm steady and working from root to tip and Ryan shivered beneath him, letting out another little gasp that just did weird things to Chad’s insides.

He pried open one eye, then the second one. And he lifted Ryan’s cock out of his boxers, getting a better hold and stroking a little faster and then he _did_ look. Which maybe wasn’t the greatest idea, because yeah it looked just as fucking weird as he’d been afraid that it would, his hand dark and wrapped tight around Ryan’s dick, which was just as impossibly pale as the rest of him, except for the head which was... _God._ Was this what Lisa Gillies saw when she was giving Chad a handjob? How could she even stand to—oh, wait, he realized, no. No, Lisa didn’t look. He knew that for a fact because Lisa’s mouth was always busy and it was one of the reasons he’d sometimes thought he kind of liked her best, in spite of the sad but undeniable fact that two years spent in braces hadn’t done her teeth a bit of good, not to mention that she’d once asked Chad to wear a cowboy hat because she had what Chad considered to be a really unhealthy thing for Keith Anderson. 

_Fuck!_ This wasn’t helping. It wasn’t helping, and Chad was starting to get freaked out, and any second now Ryan was going to notice. And that would land them right smack where they had been, only probably even worse off. _Well, hell._ Lisa wasn’t stupid, Chad knew that much. 

So he let go of Ryan’s dick for an instant, sitting back to grab the waist of Ryan’s boxers. He yanked them down, and god the shocked sound that Ryan made at that was _awesome_ , so much that it nearly made Chad grin. He settled down on the bed again, and this time when he wrapped his hand around Ryan’s cock he just let it go on auto-pilot, like it had been doing daily for the past seven years or so, and sometimes even more often than that. And his mouth... well, it got busy. 

Ryan’s belly was flat and taut, and his abs were surprisingly well-muscled— although Chad guessed all that yoga had to be good for something, after all. And when Chad licked around his navel, Ryan whimpered, tremors of excitement rushing through his body. Chad grinned, and nibbled at Ryan’s hip, thrilling when that got him another shiver in response. No, Ryan definitely wasn’t soft, not anywhere, not at that moment. 

And Chad was surprised to realize he was really finding that kind of sexy.

A fine trail of dark gold hair arrowed straight down Ryan’s belly, and okay no way was Chad going to follow it all the way to the end. But he found that he could dip his head and lick at it while still keeping his mouth a safe distance away from his pumping hand. So he did, scraping his teeth over taut skin, rubbing any sting away with his tongue. And when Ryan moaned the sound shot straight to the base of Chad’s spine, sparking there and making lust knot up tight in his gut. He was shocked to realize that his own hips were moving in time with his hand, bucking against Ryan’s bed, his cock rubbing hard against the silk sheets. 

“Chad,” Ryan said breathlessly, and Chad grinned, feeling smug that he was the one who put that note of _need_ in Ryan’s voice, because he was just so incredibly—

Oh fuck, that was a _warning_.

“Chad!” Ryan said again, sounding even more urgent this time, and Chad lifted his head barely soon enough. Thick ropes of fluid shot past his fingers, dripping down the skin Chad had been licking just seconds before. His hand squeezed tighter and Ryan yelped, shuddering beneath him. 

“Oh fuck oh—“ Chad gasped and let go, then a long moment later pulled himself up to crash heavily down next to Ryan.

“Oh my god,” Ryan breathed, like he still couldn’t quite comprehend it all. Then abruptly he pushed himself up, shoving at the weight of Chad’s arm pinning him down. “Here,” he said, wriggling his way down the bed. “I want to—just let me—“

“No,” Chad said sharply, and Ryan froze. Chad felt his cheeks flush hot, and in a softer voice he explained, “I already did. While you—you know.”

Ryan stared down at him, owlish in the dimness. “You did?” he asked, like he wasn’t sure whether it was a joke.

Or maybe he just didn’t believe it at all.

“Yeah,” Chad mumbled, but Ryan – being Ryan – couldn’t just take Chad’s word for it, no, he had to—

“Oh. Hey.”

Chad rolled his eyes, and willed his embarrassment to die down already. Meanwhile, Ryan clambered back up and lay down next to him, his hand on Chad’s naked hip and a shy smile on his face.

“That’s a good sign,” he murmured, and Chad stifled a groan.

“Yeah?” _Right._ Of all the totally immature undignified sexually-confused—

“Yes,” Ryan assured him, and pressed a soft kiss to Chad’s lips.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad makes an offer he won't let Ryan refuse.

0rents wknd slp wime

Ryan stared at his iPhone, trying to make heads or tails of the text message. He turned it to the side and looked again, then checked from a full 180, just in case it was in code or something.

No luck.

"What the hell, Chad," he muttered, and shook his head. Then he jerked back in surprise as a beefy be-ringed hand descended before him, and snatched his phone away. 

"What a lovely beginning to our Wednesday," Ms. Darbus trilled, dripping sarcasm as usual. His iPhone hit the bottom of her tin pail with a clunk that made him wince. "Mr. Evans, ordering you to work on the sets for our next musicale would be redundant, and a sad waste of your talents." She tapped a fingertip against her lips in thought. Then her eyes lit up, sparking with unholy glee. "Perfect. You will relieve your assistant choreographer and rehearse with the chorus dancers today. I'm sure it will be a learning experience for all of you."

Ryan blanched, then flushed, his eyes filling with mute pleas for mercy, but she was already turning away. Pouting, he slouched down into his chair. _The chorus dancers? God!_ Only the worst of the worst were relegated to the chorus, students who not only had no sense of rhythm, but often seemed incapable of discerning right from left as well. A learning experience? _Yeah, right._ Ryan would consider himself lucky if he escaped rehearsal without bursting into furious tears.

As for the chorus... no, they had no chance.

And meanwhile, if he was taking over the chorus, then who would be rehearsing with the principals? His assistant? _Dear. God._ How the fuck had he gotten himself into this mess?

Oh. Right. He hadn't.

Ryan's brows snapped down and he shot Chad a glower which promised slow and painful retaliation. From across the room Chad blinked at him in surprise, then drew back like he was hurt. As if.

By the time the bell rang signalling the end of homeroom, Ryan's anger hadn't cooled any. He shouldered his messenger bag and stalked out of the room, and was unsurprised when Chad caught up with him at his locker.

"What the hell was that for?" Chad asked under his breath, and he still dared to look completely clueless.

"The chorus dancers, Chad!" Ryan hissed, and really, how could that not be sufficient explanation? "Darbus is making me train the friggin' rejects who can't even count to four yet!"

Chad snorted a laugh - unwisely - and then schooled the smile from his face. "So why are they even in the cast, then? There's no rule that says you have to take everyone who tries out, right?"

"Oh please, Danforth, your jock is showing," Ryan growled, and Chad practically jumped back, looking down at his shorts in paranoia. Ryan rolled his eyes, and slammed his locker shut. "Not _that..._ God. I meant that we have to take whoever we can get," he explained, irritation still rising from his pores as he set out for their trigonometry class. "We're not the flippin' state championship basketball team. The Drama Club doesn't get to be picky."

"That's just because not enough people know about the Drama Club's _special_ talents," Chad said with a grin, and he obviously found himself charming.

"Right." Ryan muttered the response, but couldn't entirely manage to keep the smile from tugging at his lips. "Yeah, and speaking of special talents," he said, shooting Chad a look of exasperation, "do you think I speak Greek or something? What the hell was that text supposed to say?"

"Oh! You didn't get that?" Chad looked genuinely surprised, which made Ryan wonder if he'd been texting in his sleep, or something. "I said that, um." He glanced over his shoulder, checking that they were lost in the usual muddle of the crowded hallway, everyone else chattering away as usual so he didn't have to worry about being overheard. "My parents will be out of town this weekend," he said, speaking out of the corner of his mouth, and Ryan just shook his head, then put his hand on Chad's shoulder and steered him out of the flow of students.

"What?" he asked, ducking his head close. But carefully watching a vague point at the other end of the hallway, because God forbid anyone notice them having a private conversation.

"My parents are out of town," Chad whispered again, facing the other way and studying his fingernails like he was checking for dirt. "I want you to sleep over."

Ryan blinked. "You actually put all that in one text? And yet still managed to make it entirely incomprehensible?"

Chad rolled his eyes. "Just come over, man," he muttered. "I want you to sleep with me."

"Yeah, no problem." Ryan shrugged like it was no big deal, but he couldn't help the way his heart raced at the words. "Friday night?"

"Yeah. And Saturday," Chad answered, glancing aside to check Ryan's expression.

"Saturday?"

"Yeah," Chad repeated, "I'll make you breakfast or something. Do you like blueberry pancakes?"

"Wait, what?" Ryan forgot all about discretion and dissembling, and turned to look at Chad incredulously. "Breakfast? You mean like—"

"Sleep _over_ , I mean," Chad insisted, and Ryan's stomach went cold. "When I said 'sleep with me' I meant—"

"I thought you meant, like, you know, always. Like, sex, and then one of us goes home," Ryan said, dropping his voice to a careful whisper once more.

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" Chad insisted, which made no sense at all. "My parents will be out of town. Maya's going to a friend's house. So you can, you know." He shrugged, and shoved his hand in his pocket, and studied the thinning flow of students hurrying past them to get to class on time. "Stay. Sleep with me."

"I—" _Fuck._ "Um." Ryan swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. "No."

"No?" Chad looked shocked.

"Yes, no." Ryan tossed off a would-be casual grin, even though he could feel that he wasn’t fooling anyone. "We'll have bad breath in the morning."

Chad snorted a laugh, and relaxed once more. "So we'll brush our teeth."

" _Chad_ ," Ryan muttered, still unable to believe they were actually having this conversation. "Come on," he said, and dropped the whole casual act to look Chad directly in the eye. "That's, like, the least romantic thing ever. Just let it go." 

And maybe it wasn't quite what he meant to say, and maybe it was just a little truer than he even really wanted to be, but Chad turned to face him, his dark eyes fathomless. And the feeling shining in them nearly dropped Ryan to the floor. "Ryan," he whispered, and there was a hint of amusement curving his lips, "I want to sleep with you in my arms. What could be more romantic than that?"

_Oh. God._ “Umm...” Ryan trailed off feebly.

“You want roses?” Chad asked, and Ryan waved a negating hand.

“Absolutely not. I just—“

“Champagne? Barbra Streisand?” Chad’s grin now was devilish.

“Don’t,” Ryan warned, and shot him a quelling look.

Not that he’d yet figured out quite how to quell Chad. 

“So that’s a yes, then,” Chad whispered, stepping closer. Then the bell clanged overhead, and he jerked back. 

“Shit,” Ryan muttered, and jogged down the hall, Chad at his side. “Great. Thanks a lot. Now I have detention with five freshmen who think they’re the Cheetah Girls, _and_ I’m late for class.”

“Hey, right there with you,” Chad replied with a laugh. “So say yes.” 

“No.” Ten more steps to the classroom door. Nine more steps to escape. Eight more steps and he could go bury himself in Pythagorean Identities, and never again would he proclaim that trig was useless....

He jerked to a sudden stop, Chad’s hand on his shoulder. “Say yes,” Chad whispered, and Ryan’s jaw tightened. Chad frowned, then brightened again. “Say yes, or you get the roses _and_ the Streisand, plus I’ll start putting _Playgirl_ in your locker.”

Ryan glared at him, then shook Chad off and stalked into the classroom. He ducked his head and apologized to his teacher, then took his usual seat in the back row.

A long moment later, Chad strolled in and made his apology – one far more gracious than Ryan’s had been – and gave the room a sunny confident smile before slinging his backpack to the floor and grabbing a seat.

Clearly, Ryan really had to work on his _no._


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad has a _very_ big night planned.

Ryan pulled his convertible into Chad’s driveway, and let the engine idle as he tried to work through some of his nerves. Should he park on the street, so no one would know Chad had a visitor? Should he park at the end of the block, and then walk the last of the way to Chad’s house? Did it even matter where he parked, or was he just totally paranoid? 

Was his inability to make up his mind just further evidence that this was a stupid stupid _stupid_ idea? 

“Sleep with me,” he muttered, and killed the engine. “It’ll be romantic. I’ll make you pancakes.” He slapped a hand over his eyes, and inhaled deeply. It had been different the time before, when Chad had just sort of wound up stranded at Ryan's house one night. That hadn't been premeditated or planned. It didn't count, in the scheme of Sleeping Together. This... this was different. It felt... significant. Meaningful.

And that just scared the living daylights out of him. “Ryan Evans, you’re a fucking idiot,” he told himself, then sighed. His shoulders slumping, he got out of the car and strolled up the walk to Chad’s front door. 

He was just lifting his hand to knock when the door swung open before him. “I thought you were never coming in,” Chad said, greeting him with a wide grin. He took Ryan’s hand and pulled him inside, then locked the front door behind him. “Come on,” he said, leading Ryan deeper into the house. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” 

“I’m fine,” Ryan answered, distracted by the collection of family portraits on the wall. “Is that you?” he asked, leaning closer and studying a photo of a boy perhaps three years old, half-naked and smiling the goofy bared-teeth grin of a child. “Is that a dish towel around your waist?” 

“I wanted to be Tarzan,” Chad mumbled, and tugged Ryan up the stairs, ignoring his laughter. “Yeah, like you’ve never compromised your dignity for your fantasies.” 

“Oh, wow. We are so not going there,” Ryan replied, and prudently bit back the rest of his giggles. “So where are your parents this weekend?” 

“Atlanta,” Chad answered. “My dad’s got a civil engineering conference, and my mom’s never been there so he took her along.” He pushed open the door to his bedroom and flicked on a lamp. 

“And Maya?” Ryan asked, recalling the girl who’d interrupted them that one day. Belatedly, he wondered whether Chad had ever had to deal with any trouble after that incident. 

“She’s at her best friend’s house till Sunday night. She’ll probably come back with seven different colors of nail polish on, plus she’ll be sick from eating raw chocolate chip cookie dough all weekend.” Chad dropped his hand and turned, looking at Ryan expectantly. 

Ryan rocked back on his heels and put his hands in his pockets. Chad’s room was a lot tidier than he would have predicted, making him curious as to whether Chad was always so neat, or whether he’d cleaned up only in anticipation of Ryan’s visit. _Maybe there are even clean sheets on the bed_. He shook himself, then gave Chad a little smile. “Cool posters,” he said, although it was just beyond him why a supposedly-straight guy would want door-sized pictures of sweaty male athletes on his walls. 

Perhaps Chad had just been ignoring some serious clues for a while already. 

“Thanks,” Chad replied, and his beaming smile made Ryan’s chest ache. “So, um.” He reached out and turned on his stereo, then lowered the volume as a smooth saxophone filled the room. “Do you like jazz?” 

Ryan blinked. “Uh.” He shrugged. “I honestly have no idea.” 

“Oh. Well, Ornette Coleman is, like, amazing,” Chad told him, and Ryan watched as he crossed the room and sat down on his bed. “He’s probably one of the most influential musicians in jazz history. You know, free jazz. Serious blues roots. That kind of thing.” 

“Okay.” _Stupid stupid stupid idea!_ Ryan stood stiffly for a moment longer, and then forced himself to walk over and sit down next to Chad. “You invited me over to give me music history lessons?” 

“No,” Chad said softly, and he trailed a finger over Ryan’s cheek. The simple caress made Ryan’s heart race. Chad leaned closer and pressed his lips to Ryan’s, a sweet kiss that lingered before deepening, his tongue slipping into Ryan’s mouth. “Oh!” Chad said suddenly, pulling back. “I forgot something.” He got to his feet and grabbed a cigarette lighter from his bookshelf, then lit a few pillar candles scattered throughout the room. Turning off the lamp, he then put the lighter back and sat down with Ryan once more. 

A soft scent of French vanilla rose on the air, and Ryan frowned. “What’s going on?” 

“You said no to the champagne and roses,” Chad answered, like that was any kind of answer at all. “I had to set the mood somehow,” he murmured, and leaned in to lick at Ryan’s lips. 

It almost made sense – almost – and so Ryan was already moving closer, kissing Chad back before he jerked away. “Wait. What?” he asked, trying to read Chad’s eyes in the flickering candlelight. “Set the mood for what, exactly?” 

Chad shrugged, and Ryan thought maybe he was even blushing a little. “You know,” he answered. “This. Tonight.” 

“This. Tonight,” Ryan echoed stupidly, staring. And the shoe didn’t just drop, it smacked him upside the head. “Wait. You think that—“ 

“Well yeah,” Chad answered quickly, like he was trying to get the words out before he lost his nerve. “I mean, it’s—well, you know it’s my first time.” He swallowed hard, looking awfully sheepish. “I don’t know what it is for you. But I figured... I mean, there’s nothing wrong with a little ambiance. Right?” 

_Oh. Fuck._ “It’s your first time. It’s my...” Ryan trailed off and shook his head. “I don’t need ambiance, Chad. If you want to fuck me, that’s fine. Better than fine, actually,” he assured him, and kicked off his shoes before standing up and starting to unbuckle his belt. _Score another run for the Versace_ , he thought, although he doubted Chad could really fully appreciate his outfit in the dim light. Not that he’d spent more than an hour putting it together, or anything. 

“Ryan, wait,” Chad said, and laid his hand on Ryan’s wrist, stilling him. “You don’t need to—“ he shook his head and sighed. “All right, at least let me,” he muttered, and took over the task of working Ryan’s belt open, then sliding his slacks down his legs. “Come here.” He gently pushed Ryan back on the bed, then leaned over when Ryan scooted to lie back. Chad took his hat and set it aside, and then combed his fingers through Ryan’s hair before dipping down to kiss him again. 

And that was better. Easier. More familiar, and far more comfortable. Ryan returned the kiss eagerly, his excitement rising with every passing second Chad stayed quiet. He slid his hands up Chad’s chest and then tugged at his shirt, pulling it up until Chad took the hint and dragged it off. He threw it carelessly to the floor and then started on Ryan’s shirt in turn, swiftly unbuttoning it then dropping his head to lick along Ryan’s collarbone. 

And when Chad slipped his hand down to cup Ryan’s ass, squeezing and then dragging Ryan’s silk boxers down to his knees, that was even better. Okay, so the candlelight and the music – _god, the music_ – were a bit much. But Ryan could tune all that out, certainly. He had way more important things to focus on just then, namely Chad’s cock, stiff and heavy against his palm. He played his fingers over the crown and Chad shivered, which put things right back where they should be. 

“Ryan, I—I don’t—“ Chad bit his lip, then pushed on. “I have condoms but I don’t... I mean, I know you have to... or I have to... or, no, you, definitely you, but I don’t....” 

Ryan stared at him for a long moment, his hand still and his eyes wide as he tried to think past the pounding rush of blood in his head. “Just tell me you bought lube,” he ordered, and Chad nodded. “Okay, then give me that,” and oh what a blessing it was when Chad simply did as he was told, didn’t argue or question or for heaven’s sake attempt _ambiance_. 

With a wriggle Ryan kicked his boxers all the way off and then sat up to tear off his shirt. Chad was shoving his jeans down and Ryan hungrily watched the slow – all right, it was a little too frantic to really be slow – reveal, every tight muscle and sharp angle painted deliciously golden by the candlelight. Ryan lay back and flipped open the bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount into his palm. And he watched Chad’s face as he slowly dragged his hand down his body, then dipped further down to circle his hole with one wet fingertip. 

“Oh my god,” Chad whispered, staring in fascination, and one corner of Ryan’s mouth turned up in a smirk. Yeah, _this_ part he knew he did well, with no hesitation or uncertainty. He pressed his finger into his body and arched back against the bed, then worked a second finger in, rubbing just right until a pulse of lust shivered through him. 

And it was okay that Chad only watched. It was really kind of hot, actually, the way he licked his lips and stared, and Ryan went on by feel, watching Chad in turn. He’d never thought Chad would actually do the dirty work of prepping him, and frankly he was amazed that Chad felt ready for this at all, given how skittish he’d been only a couple weeks before. And no matter if he was totally hands-off; his eyes told Ryan just how badly he wanted him. 

Well, his eyes and his cock. 

“Get the condom,” Ryan whispered, corkscrewing three fingers into himself. He was hardly going to inform Chad that he was about to be Ryan’s first actual man in several months. Several months of only Karl for company—Karl was firm and hard and purple and sparkly, and oh so fabulous, but still not quite as good as the real thing. So Ryan took extra care to be thorough, and when Chad knelt on the bed, his cock standing proud and waiting, Ryan spread his legs without hesitation. 

But it kind of went downhill from there. 

“Are you—wait, am I...?” 

“No, just—there. Right there. Now push.” 

“Okay, but—ohmygod. Fuck. Ryan. Fuck!” 

“Shut _up_ and just keep pushing!” 

“Yeah, but—holy shit that’s tight. Ow. Like really tight.” 

“It’s _supposed_ to be tight,” Ryan grumbled, and slid his hands up to cup Chad’s bare ass. In one swift movement he yanked him close, and his gasp was all but covered up in Chad’s yelp of surprise. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god ohmygod ohmygod.” 

“Not _yet_ ,” Ryan snapped, lifting his legs and crossing his ankles against Chad’s back. “Now move!” 

And there, at least, Chad didn’t disappoint. For all that he claimed he couldn’t dance, his sense of rhythm was damn good, and soon Ryan was moaning against Chad’s neck, warmth rushing through him with every deep thrust. 

Just not for quite long enough. 

“Ohgod. Ryan! Oh—“ 

“No wait, just—“ Ryan groaned and held on tight while Chad shuddered against him, mumbling nonsense into his shoulder. And he waited, waited until Chad began to relax his hold, shifted just enough so that—“Oh god yes,” Ryan breathed, his hand wrapped around his cock and stroking fast. His climax burst through him and he went rigid, savoring the delicious feeling of clutching Chad tight inside him while he came. “Yes,” he breathed again, melting into the bed. 

Chad whimpered softly and Ryan rolled his eyes, then shifted again, letting Chad pull out and tie off the condom. All right, so... it hadn’t been great. Not great, but obviously Chad was blissfully unaware of that, because he looked pretty damn pleased with himself. And on the whole, Ryan supposed it wasn’t absolutely terrible for a first attempt. Plus, considering the possibility that Chad might stick around in his life for a bit, and therefore Ryan might have the opportunity to train him a little—well, there was definitely hope there. 

If.

Chad stretched out on the bed and laid a heavy arm across Ryan’s chest, possessively weighing him down. And Ryan stared at the ceiling, watching the way the shadows darted in the flickering candlelight. He listened to Chad’s thunderous breathing slow, felt every shred of tension melt out of Chad’s body. “I’m glad you’re staying,” Chad mumbled, and Ryan couldn’t look to see whether he was making that confession in full consciousness, or whether he was already half-asleep.

Either way, it didn’t much matter.

Fuck.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Chad and Ryans' big night.

“If you want caffeine, then why don’t you just have coffee?” Chad asked, looking over his shoulder at Ryan. “This tea thing makes no sense.” 

Ryan sighed, and stirred honey into his mug. “I don’t like coffee,” he explained, “and I don’t want herbal tea. Ergo, black tea.” 

Chad watched him for a moment longer, then turned back to the stove. “Well, what about, like, Starbucks and all that?" he asked, flipping the pancakes with expert precision, the butter snapping in the frying pan. At first, Ryan had snickered when Chad had put his mother’s apron on, but Chad wasn’t about to risk bodily harm just for breakfast. And he wasn’t about to go put a shirt on, either, not when he was hoping to be getting all naked again with Ryan, very soon. "You know, coffee with a ton of milk and sugar and flavor syrups all added in. It's basically like one big hot sundae.” 

“I avoid sundaes,” Ryan announced regally. “I’m a dancer. I can’t get fat.”

Grimacing, Chad shook his head. “You’d better be kidding,” he warned, and turned off the burner beneath the frying pan before checking out Ryan’s expression. “Yeah, you’re kidding,” he decided with relief, and set the plate of steaming blueberry pancakes on the table in front of Ryan. “So eat up.”

“No fork?” Ryan asked, laying a napkin in his lap and searching the table as Chad pulled the apron off and draped it over a chair. 

“Forks are for wusses,” Chad informed him, but couldn’t keep the laughter out of his eyes. “Fine,” he said, and reached back to pull open the silverware drawer, grabbing a couple of forks. “Wuss,” he teased, handing one to Ryan.

“Ohh, _someone_ is so not getting any tonight,” Ryan retorted, spreading butter on his pancakes and watching it start to melt. 

“Who, you? Bummer.” Chad stuffed his first forkful of pancake into his mouth, and then nodded in satisfaction. “Too bad you don’t have a hot boyfriend like I do.”

Ryan laughed and shook his head. “You’re awfully chipper this morning,” he observed, and Chad couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face in response.

“Shouldn’t I be? I had a pretty fantastic night last night.” He winked at Ryan. “That hot boyfriend I mentioned.”

This time Ryan nearly looked bashful. “I’ve never been anyone’s boyfriend before,” he mumbled, so softly Chad barely caught it.

“Yeah, well. I’ve never had one,” he replied. “So that should probably make us even, or something.”

“Yeah, right.” Ryan shook his head but didn’t argue. For several minutes they ate in contented silence, until Chad started to wonder if he could really stand a third gigantic helping, or if he should take the prudent path and stop while he still had a little room left to digest. Looking at Ryan, he decided on the latter course of action.

Ryan laid his fork aside and sipped at his tea, his eyes on Chad. “Do you think you’re done with that whole growing pains thing now?”

Chad’s brow furrowed. “Growing pains?”

“Yeah, you know,” Ryan said. “All that ‘adjusting to life-changing revelations’ you were going on about. Last night... well, you kind of seemed leaps and bounds past that, all of a sudden.”

It was a perceptive observation, and just a little too close for comfort. “Um.” Chad felt his cheeks flushing hot. “I just figured that maybe... I mean, maybe if....” He looked at Ryan, who was still giving him that intent ‘I can see into your soul, you faker’ look. “I thought that if I skipped a bunch of baby steps all at once, then maybe I could kind of trick myself. You know? Like, I needed time to adjust, yeah, but I didn’t want to _analyze_ things, really, I just wanted to feel it and be comfortable feeling it. So, we kind of got a bunch of things out of the way at once.”

“Out of the way?” Ryan shook his head, and leaned back in his chair. “God, you confuse me,” he muttered, but to Chad’s relief he didn’t seem particularly irritated, just... baffled. “First you want the baby steps, then you don’t want them... I never know what’s coming next, with you.”

Chad shrugged, uncertain just how to respond to that. “Uh. Sorry?” he offered, but Ryan stifled a chuckle at his transparently insincere apology, so he figured he couldn’t have totally screwed up. “Anyway, what about you, huh?” he asked, knocking back a swallow of orange juice. “What’s with your whole ‘I don’t need ambiance’ gig?” 

“Chad, I’m a guy,” Ryan pointed out. 

“Yeah, I noticed,” Chad informed him dryly. “And the whole dick thing kind of clinched my suspicions.” 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “What I _mean_ is that I wanted you to fuck me. And you wanted to fuck me, so we were in agreement there. So then why waste time lighting candles?” 

The argument made sense, on the whole; Chad could see that. So it was beyond him why Ryan’s words put a knot of dissatisfaction in his gut. “I don’t think... I mean, ‘waste of time’ is kind of harsh, don’t you think?” he asked, but didn’t wait for Ryan to answer. “I didn’t make you sit and wait for an hour while I recited sonnets at you or anything. I just felt like... I don’t know, like it was an occasion worth commemorating, or something.” 

“You think you wouldn’t remember it otherwise?” Ryan asked, and the wry look in his eyes made Chad want to squirm. 

“ _No_ , I didn’t say... forget it.” Chad frowned, and pushed his empty plate away. “You’re the confusing one, anyway,” he mumbled. 

“How am I confusing?” 

“Seriously?” Chad was incredulous. “You, with your whole ‘impress me’ deal, and then you insist you don’t want presents, or, or specialness, or anything?” 

“You impressed me without all that,” Ryan put in, folding his arms on the table and leaning in, narrowing the distance between them. “And anyway, being confusing is the bottom’s prerogative. Just ask any girl.” 

Chad frowned at him. “You did _not_ just compare yourself to a girl. Or all girls to bottoms. Or... Christ, Ryan.” 

“It was a _joke_ , Chad,” Ryan muttered, but he wasn’t smiling either. He rubbed a hand over his eyes like he was tired. 

“Yeah, whatever.” Chad sighed, and stood up to stack their dirty dishes in the sink. “This is stupid, regardless. Let’s just drop it.” 

“Fine,” Ryan replied. “I have no idea what we’re arguing about at this point anyway.” 

_Me either_ , Chad thought, and couldn’t help but wonder if relationships ever got any smarter than theirs, or if it was always such a damn tangle. “I think we’re arguing to create more sexual tension,” he announced, trying desperately to lighten the mood once more. It was such a rare opportunity for Ryan and he to be together in private for a few relaxed hours, as opposed to scrambling to the finish line so they could go clean up and pretend to ignore each other again. Turning around, he leaned against the kitchen counter, and shot Ryan a smirk. “You know, ‘cause we have to have a fight first so that we can get to the hot make-up sex.” 

“Make-up sex?” Ryan asked, some of his customary amusement returning to his eyes. “That’s ambitious, don’t you think?” He stood up and strolled around the table, then braced his arms on either side of Chad, caging him against the counter. “Pushing your limits so hard, twice in one twenty-four hour period? Plus, the sun is shining,” he pointed out, nodding towards the window. “You might actually be able to see my naked male body.” 

“Oh, and you really think I can’t handle that?” Chad drawled, slipping his hands around Ryan’s waist and then dropping them to cup his ass, seductive heat blazing through the thin cotton of Ryan’s pajama pants. “I think I’m starting to get used to your naked male body, actually,” he added, and jerked Ryan closer until he could just feel the outline of Ryan’s stiffening cock, pressing against his thigh. 

Ryan’s lips parted on a soft gasp, and he wriggled just a little, rubbing against Chad in that way he’d figured out fast always drove Chad crazy. “Will wonders never cease,” he murmured, and slid his hand up Chad’s bare chest. 

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Chad muttered, and crushed their lips together in a kiss.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Troy thinks he doesn't get enough sex. But he's got a lot to tell Chad about love.

“And so _then_ she says, well, just because I have my period doesn’t make it Blowjob Week, and then she’s going on and on about how if I truly respected her then I wouldn’t want blowjobs all the time, which is just friggin’ insane because, dude! What guy _doesn’t_ want blowjobs all the time? I mean, it’s got nothing at all to do with respect. It’s just something you want, like, empirically.” Troy frowned, apparently re-running his vocabulary through his head. “Intrinsically. Something like that.” 

Chad snorted a laugh and handed Troy his study guide for their upcoming history test. “Hey man, I think you should consider yourself lucky you ever got Gabriella into bed at all,” he informed Troy. “Seriously, she seems like the goodiest of two-shoes.” 

Troy frowned. “Dude. Your metaphors don’t even make sense.” 

“That wasn’t a metaphor,” Chad retorted. 

“So what was it, then?” 

“I don’t know. Something else.” Chad shook his head, and flipped through his binder looking for his notes on the Cold War. “Technically, I mean.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” Troy pouted and slouched back against his bed. They were on the floor of Troy’s bedroom, looseleaf papers and Xeroxed notes and various textbooks spread out around them. Operation: Pass Midterms was in full swing, but Troy was apparently way too wrapped up in his latest snit with Gabriella to be able to focus his attention on something so banal as schoolwork. “She’s so pissed off at me she’s saying that maybe we shouldn’t go to the Winter Formal together, which has got to be one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard.” 

“Come on, man,” Chad replied, taking pity on Troy and his sulky self. Because if he didn’t head this fit off at the pass, he might lose five hours of his Sunday and _still_ not be ready for the history test. “You know she’d never go with anyone else. It’s totally an empty threat that she’s making just to worry you. She does it so you’ll cave.” 

Troy rolled his eyes. “I _always_ cave,” he pointed out, and Chad laughed. 

“Yeah, exactly. So she knows it works. Why mess with a successful formula?” 

“Shut up, dick,” Troy muttered, but finally opened a book, like maybe he might actually be ready to study a little bit. 

Or maybe not. “The Winter Formal is even bigger than Homecoming. It’s, like, the closest thing to Prom, before Prom. I don’t want us to miss it just because we’re fighting,” Troy explained earnestly. “Because then she’ll _really_ be pissed at me, for making her miss it.” 

_ God.  _ Chad inhaled a deep breath, then slowly released it, trying to keep himself under control. “So, kiss her ass already,” he urged, and grabbed his backpack, fumbling inside it for a pen that actually hadn’t dried out yet. He really needed to start capping his pens. “Do your groveling thing. Bring her flowers already, and don’t hint that you want a blowjob for another week or so.” He shrugged. “And, I don’t know. Give her one, I guess.” 

“Give her one?” Troy asked, and he was already starting to snicker. 

“You know what I mean, dumbass,” Chad retorted, and flicked one of his useless pens at Troy. 

“Hey, careful! You can totally kill someone with one of those things,” Troy said with a laugh. “I saw it on _Supernatural_.” 

“Oh, well it must be true then,” Chad replied. He grabbed his Coke and knocked back a swallow, then let his glance briefly skate over his best friend. “Your relationship isn’t always one-way,” he said casually, like it was a totally normal question, “right?” 

“One-way?” Troy looked confused. “Oh! You mean, like—“ 

“ _Yes,_ like that,” Chad answered, before they could get mired in another one of Troy’s famously TMI anecdotes. It was _Troy_ who needed to work on his metaphors, seriously. 

“Well no, of course not. I mean, that’d be stupid,” Troy answered, and then his eyes lit up. “And seriously, Gabriella’s ass! It’s so sweet, man, I just like to—“ 

“ _Stop!”_ Chad cut in, his eyes wide. “Stop right there. Do _not_ tell me... whatever you were about to tell me. For the love of God, man.” 

Troy looked at him like he was nuts. “Fine,” he said, and he started whistling as he flipped open one of his notebooks. The whistling, fortunately, didn’t last for more than a minute. Which was good, as otherwise Chad would have had to kill him. But he didn’t get more than three minutes of focused study time, anyway, before Troy was starting up again. “So, who are you taking?” 

Chad blinked at him, distracted and totally lost. “Taking where?” 

“To the Formal, dude, keep up.” 

“Oh.” Chad thought on that for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t think I’m going this year.” 

“Huh?” Troy looked like he thought perhaps he’d heard wrong. “Why wouldn’t you be going?” 

“I don’t know,” Chad answered, “maybe because it’s a completely stupid high school dance.” 

“Well, yeah,” Troy agreed, “but you always go to the stupid high school dances. And there’s always some kind of huge blow-up on the cheerleading squad the week before, because _somehow_ it always happens that more than one girl thinks she’s going to be your date.” 

Chad flushed a little, but then grinned unrepentantly. “Hey, what can I say,” he replied, and chuckled. “The women love me.” 

“Sad but true,” Troy laughed. “So, remind me why you’re not going?” 

“Oh. Um.” Chad chewed on his lower lip a moment. “Whatever. I’ll think about it.” He stared blindly at his notes for a few seconds, his mind drifting to Ryan as it so frequently did these days. “You and Gabi get in fights all of the time,” he said, not that he was trying to stir up Troy’s paranoia again or anything. He just needed an opening. “But you still totally love her, right?” 

“Yeah, totally,” Troy answered, looking at him in surprise. “That never changes. She’s The One, you know?” and Chad could actually hear the way Troy dropped the capitals into that statement. 

Still, Chad shot him a look pregnant with skepticism. “Dude. You’re seventeen.” 

“So?” Troy glared at him, affronted. “So we found each other early, that’s all. Not everyone does, but we did. We’re lucky like that.” He shook his head at Chad. “You think I’m going to be stupid and tell her to just wait and give me ten years, because I’ve still got fucking around to do?” 

“No, no,” Chad assured him, already regretting that he’d brought up the topic in the first place. “I don’t. And yes, you’re lucky. I totally agree. I was just wondering....” 

Troy watched him, waiting. “Wondering what?” he finally prompted, when Chad’s hesitation lingered just a little too long. 

“I don’t know. Just, how’d you know...” he took a deep breath, steeling his courage, and then looked up to meet Troy’s expectant gaze. “How did you know you were in love?” 

Troy’s blue eyes hazed over, and that silly love-struck smile of his played on his lips. “It was just... obvious, I guess,” he answered, measuring out his words. So at least Chad could be sure he was actually thinking before he spoke, for once. “I mean, I’d really liked different girls before, but Gabi was the first one I just felt so completely happy with, you know? Like, when I was with her, I didn’t think about what was coming next, or when I was going to finally score, or whether I was, I don’t know, wasting my time with her because I could maybe find someone better. Like, it just felt... right.” 

_ It just felt right _ . Chad took the words in meditatively, and gave them grave consideration. “But wait, seriously,” he argued. “Even when you were fighting?” 

“Yeah. Well, I mean, no. Not really, obviously,” Troy replied, although Chad sure felt like Troy was doing his best to make sure _nothing_ he said seemed clearly obvious. “I mean, I always feel like crap when we fight. Like, sick to my stomach. But that’s because I _know_ we’re right, you know? Like, right together. So I just want to get back to that.” Troy sighed, relaxing back against the foot of his bed. Then he turned a weird look on Chad, his expression almost... kindly. Patronizing, but without condescension. “Don’t worry, man,” he said, and Chad realized Troy was trying to reassure him. “You’ll get there.” 

Chad blinked, swallowing around a hard lump of uncertainty and trying to take Troy’s words in the spirit which he intended them. “Yeah. Thanks.” 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Safe sex in Ryan's awesome car... ~~sorry about the angst~~

“Ow. Can you just—no, wait, that’s not—shit, watch your head!” 

The warning came too late, and Chad’s head smacked against the roof of Ryan’s convertible, which was currently up to keep out the rain. “Ouch,” he exclaimed, but he was already dissolving into laughter. He grinned down at Ryan. “It’s kind of cramped in here,” he observed, and moved to avoid the gearshift. “Maybe next time you should get the BMW with the back seats.” 

“Yeah, that’s totally it. I’ll get a sedan,” Ryan said wryly, awkwardly lying back against the driver’s side door and tugging at Chad’s t-shirt. 

“Forget that. Just go for the mini-van,” Chad joked, pulling his shirt off over his head and watching the way Ryan’s eyes darkened, following his movements. 

“You having some kind of Soccer Mom fantasies that I should know about, Danforth?” 

Chad snickered and trailed his fingers over Ryan’s ribs, loving the way it made Ryan shiver. “If I ever do, I promise you’ll be the first to know.” 

Ryan just laughed and shook his head, then sat up a bit more to unbuckle Chad’s belt and start working his jeans down. His fingers moved quickly, efficiently, right up until he slid his hand into Chad’s boxers and started stroking him. Then, he lingered. 

Which was totally fine by Chad. 

Well, mostly fine. He let Ryan have free rein for a couple minutes, because Ryan’s hands were magical and Chad knew better than to get in the way of magic. But eventually he forced himself to lay a hand on Ryan’s wrist, stilling his motions. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered in explanation. 

Ryan’s breath hitched, and Chad grinned in response to that telltale sign. “Like this?” Ryan asked, gesturing to indicate the perhaps six cubic feet of space they had to work in. 

“Oh.” Chad bit down on his lower lip, thinking furiously. “Well, maybe if I—“ he began, trying to work his way between Ryan’s thighs without accidentally clocking himself on the dashboard. 

“Forget it,” Ryan told him, laughing softly. Then he sat up, flattening his palm against Chad’s bare chest and pushing him back into the passenger seat. “Just sit down.” 

Chad obeyed, and watched hungrily as Ryan slouched down, kicking off his shoes and then wriggling out of his slacks. No one wriggled quite like Ryan did, and Chad always did his best to pause and appreciate that. “For you,” Ryan said, handing him a condom, and Chad hurried to tear open the package and put the rubber on. As soon as he did it, Ryan rose to kneel over him, bracing his arms against the fine leather seat and straddling Chad’s thighs. 

“Wait!” Chad said, looking at him in alarm. “You didn’t—don’t you need to—?” 

“I already did,” Ryan whispered into his ear, and a full-body shiver went through Chad. “I took an extended break during sixth period,” he explained, reaching back to fit the head of Chad’s cock against his body. “Just in case.” 

“Just in—oh god,” Chad groaned as Ryan pushed down, taking him deep in one smooth motion. He slid his hands over Ryan’s hips, caressing the pale skin and then arching his back when Ryan rose again. “You been having dirty thoughts about me during study hall, Evans?” 

“The dirtiest,” Ryan told him with a grin. “Absolutely filthy.” 

“Yeah, that’s the kind I like,” Chad replied, and curled his fingers around Ryan’s nape, pulling him close for a kiss. Outside, the wind blew in gusts and the rain pattered down on the roof of the car. The sound was hypnotic, a steady tattoo blending with the rhythm of Ryan’s hips, and Chad slid his arms around Ryan’s slim waist, keeping him close. 

* * * 

Post-orgasmic cuddling was kind of physically impossible inside the tiny BMW, but Chad found himself trying for it anyway. He waited while Ryan squirmed around getting dressed again, and stretched out his legs, his back against the passenger’s side door. “Come here,” he urged softly, making as much space as he could, and then pulling Ryan to sit against him, their legs tangling together. 

“What are we doing?” Ryan asked, and Chad could hear the smirk in his voice. “Are we snuggling? That’s awfully kinky.” 

“Shut it, Evans,” Chad growled, and Ryan relaxed against his chest, his head tipping back to rest on Chad’s shoulder. Wonder of wonders, Ryan actually kept his smart mouth closed for a few minutes, and Chad breathed contentment in deep. The rain and the gloomy clouds overhead discouraged the park’s usual visitors, and it was easy to focus on the feeling of isolation, a sense that they were the only two people in the world. 

Ryan’s fingers moved along Chad’s arm in a lazy mindless caress, and Chad smiled, soaking up the moment and storing the memory against some future date. “I’m thinking we should come out,” he murmured, before he even realized he was going to speak the words aloud. 

“What?” Ryan twisted his neck so he could meet Chad’s eyes for a moment. “Chad, I’ve been out since I was twelve.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Chad replied, a smile crooking his lips. “But _I_ haven’t. And anyway, I meant more... us,” he explained. “You know, like, _us._ As in, I’m tired of us hanging out with our friends and pretending like there’s nothing going on between us. I want to be able to kiss you in public. I want to act like we’ve actually got some legitimate right to be together.” 

Ryan was silent for a long moment. Then, “So this is a politically-motivated thing?” he teased, his voice light. 

“No, stupid,” Chad retorted, and Ryan slapped his arm, the touch all gesture and no substance—it didn’t even sting. “It’s an, ‘I have a boyfriend and I don’t feel like hiding it anymore’ thing.” 

Shaking his head slightly, Ryan dropped his hand to link their fingers together. “But you’re not gay,” he said, pointing out the obvious, and Chad rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, I know, but... what does that matter?” Chad asked, trying to cool the frustration that always rose when he thought about this subject. When he wondered why it had to be such a big deal in the first place. “I’m with you,” he rationalized, “I’m gay enough for you. This is about us, not me.” 

“But that’s not the point,” Ryan murmured. “My point is, once you tell people you’re dating me, then that will be it—everyone will just assume you’re gay. Like, immediately and totally. And they’ll never again believe you when you say you’re not.” 

Chad frowned, suddenly uncomfortable. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, “it doesn’t matter to me whether they believe me or not.” 

Ryan sighed and brought Chad’s hand to his lips, laying a soft kiss on his fingers. “It’ll matter to you the next time you ask out a girl.” 

Chad stiffened, his body going rigid beneath Ryan’s. He twisted his neck so that he could see Ryan’s face. “I don’t get it. I’m talking about you and me, and you’re talking about me and girls,” he said, staring, but Ryan wouldn’t look up and meet his eyes. “What the hell’s with that?” 

Silence drew taut between them for long moments, and then Ryan shrugged, a careless motion against Chad’s chest which felt like a lie. “I’m just looking ahead to your future,” he said quietly. “Some things... once you say them, you can’t un-say them, you know? There’s no taking them back.” He sighed. “I’d like to avoid doing any permanent damage to you, Chad.” 

Frowning, Chad settled back against the door once more. Maybe there was some sense in what Ryan was saying. But then there was also his own stubbornness to deal with, and Chad’s stubbornness was currently piping up and suggesting that maybe Ryan had a few things wrong. “Well, it’s my choice, isn’t it?” 

Sitting up, Ryan scooted out of Chad’s lap, then climbed over his legs to sit in the driver’s seat. “Yeah, it’s your choice,” he agreed, reaching out to start up the engine. “But if you’re going to make a bad choice, then I don’t want to be a part of it.” 

Drawing his legs back, Chad shifted to sit up, and he buckled his seatbelt with rigid mechanical economy. Then he just turned to stare at Ryan, still unable to get over his shock. 

Shock... and a vague feeling of betrayal. 

“Thanks, man,” he whispered, watching as Ryan totally ignored him in favor of flicking on the windshield wipers. “Thanks a lot.” 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inevitable showdown. You knew this was coming.

“We really need six couples for the stretch limo, but I guess we could do it with just five. Everyone would have to pitch in a little bit more money, though,” Gabriella explained, and the girls arrayed around her nodded. Sitting in his usual seat in front of  Chad ,  Troy smirked at his best friend, then turned to grin at Gabriella, who twinkled back at him. 

“See, I told you that you’d be fine,”  Chad muttered, grateful that Darbus was out sick, and the substitute teacher in their homeroom quite reasonably couldn’t care less about them talking. 

“Yeah. You did,”  Troy agreed happily, and although  Chad tried to resent him for his cheerfulness, he just couldn’t. 

“So, that’s  Troy and me, Martha and Dave, Kristen and Jason, and— Taylor , who are you going to the Winter Formal with?” 

“Andrew Staaaatham,”  Taylor sing-songed happily, and the girls all giggled. 

“God, he is so hot,” Martha murmured reverently, shutting her eyes for a moment like she was genuinely praying. 

“I know!”  Taylor said, so excited that her usual dignified composure was actually slipping. “And he’s really smart, too. He’s applying to Georgia Tech for early admission.” 

“Oh, wow!” Gabriella enthused, and Martha smirked. 

“ _Plus_ ,” she replied, “he’s not completely slow off the mark. Unlike _some_ people we all know.” 

Chad rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. What did he care if Martha wanted to take a cheap potshot at him? He knew she didn’t really even mean anything cruel by it, since Taylor was obviously doing just fine without him... if that hadn’t been the case, though, then the girls would all have their claws out, Chad knew. It was one of those terrifying female loyalty things. 

“Oh, right,” Gabi said, and at least she had the grace to look a little uncomfortable. “Um. So, Kelsi? You’re sure you won’t be going?” 

“My cousin’s getting married again,” Kelsi answered, giving her a shy smile. “My mom already bought the plane tickets to  Connecticut .” 

“Bummer. Well, have fun!” Gabi told her, and seemed to completely miss the way Kelsi’s eyes lit up at her smile.  Chad shook his head and returned his gaze to his trig homework. But apparently he wasn’t going to be permitted to remain out of the conversation any longer. “So, Chad,” Gabriella called to get his attention, like he couldn’t already hear her just fine from where he was. “Who are you bringing? We need you for the limo.” 

Chad shrugged, and tried to redirect her. “I think maybe I won’t be in on the limo, okay?” he said gently. “Sorry.” 

“Why not?” Gabi asked. _Ask Ryan why not_ , Chad wanted to say, but heaven only knew what Ryan would do with an opening like that. She gave him her big-eyed pleading look, the one which he’d seen Troy fall for time and again, and Chad sighed. He drew breath to give her some excuse or other – he wasn’t actually sure which one, yet – but Troy dove into the conversation before he could speak. 

“He doesn’t have a date,” Troy announced, and Chad rolled his eyes. Troy caught the look and tried to soften things a little. “I mean, yet. He just hasn’t asked anyone yet, that’s all. Seriously, though, time’s running out,” he said earnestly, turning to focus on Chad. “You do need to get working on this. I mean, Kim’s already got a date, Amy already has a date....” 

Grinding his teeth, Chad sat and listened as Troy did the roll call of all the cheerleaders who Would Not Date Chad. _It’s now or never,_ he figured, because surely he’d never get a more definite opportunity than this to finally just take matters into his own hands. He straightened up in his chair, and cut Troy off – “Lisa Gillies has a date...” – making sure to pitch his voice loud enough that everyone in homeroom would hear him. 

Everyone. 

"Yeah, well, as soon as my boyfriend gets his head out of his ass, then I'll have a date too." 

The room went silent at that bombshell, and Chad found himself holding his breath as he waited for the first aftershocks. 

“Your... what?” Troy asked, looking completely baffled, and Chad dared to turn just a little, so that he could catch a glimpse of Ryan in his peripheral vision. 

Ryan, who was frozen. But who abruptly broke his stunned shock by standing up and slinging his messenger bag onto his shoulder. “Fuck you, Danforth,” he said quite clearly, shoving past Chad and storming out of the classroom. 

“Ho...ly... _crap_ ,” Jason breathed, and the sea of startled faces reflected that sentiment right back at him. 

All except for one. 

“Oh, please. You guys didn’t know that?” Zeke asked, looking around the room. And he seemed genuinely surprised when he asked, “Seriously? Come on, y’all!” He laughed, and spread his arms wide. “Am I the only one who was paying attention at that baseball game last summer?” 

“What baseball game?” Troy asked, still clueless, but Chad just stared at Zeke incredulously. 

“We didn’t hook up after the baseball game,” he insisted, and Zeke shook his head. 

“Maybe not,” he replied, “but you totally wanted to.” He caught Chad’s expression, and shrugged. “What can I say, man? I know a lot about unrequited sexual tension. Especially when there’s an Evans involved.” 

Sharpay shot him a dirty look, but Chad just pushed to his feet and grabbed his backpack. “God,” he muttered, and stalked out of the classroom, completely ignoring the teacher’s half-hearted protests. 

* * * 

It took him a while to track Ryan down, because he wasn’t in any of his usual Ryan-type hiding places. Chad frowned as he shut the door to the last practice room, then leaned back against the wall. Ryan wasn’t in the theater, the green room, the dressing rooms, the music room, the practice rooms.... “Son of a bitch,” Chad muttered, and shoved open the door to stalk out into the bright winter sunshine. 

By the time he’d circled around the main building, he was really starting to regret that he’d left his jacket in his locker. But it simply hadn’t occurred to him to go grab it before he took off in search of— 

“Ryan,” Chad exclaimed, glaring as he approached the lone figure waiting in the alley behind the gym. “What the hell are you doing out here?” 

Ryan shrugged, and leaned back against the brick wall. “I knew you’d find your way out here eventually.” 

“Right. In December,” Chad retorted, and spread his arms wide. “It’s friggin’ cold out here, damn it!” 

“Aww, gee,” Ryan replied, his voice sugary-sweet. “And your comfort is really my top priority right now, too.” His eyes hardened. “You had no fucking right to do that.” 

“I had no right?” Chad asked, incredulous. “Oh wow, I’m sorry. Are you afraid that someone will figure out you’re gay? How careless of me!” 

“Damn it, Chad, I told you not to do that! I told you I didn’t want you to, and that it was a bad idea, and—“ 

“And it was _my_ decision, right,” Chad interrupted. “So? I made my decision. Deal with it, Ryan.” 

“Deal with it? _Fuck,_ Chad!” Ryan threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Why did you have to go and ruin everything? Things were fine!” 

“So, things can still be fine,” Chad insisted, and he was getting that Ryan was pissed off—but he really wasn’t certain just why. 

“No, they can’t!” Ryan shot back. “This was supposed to be fun, and easy, and totally none of anyone else’s business. Damn it, did it ever even occur to you that this is hard for me, too?” He folded his arms across his chest, settling firmly into a defensive stance. “Maybe I’m not ready to be part of some sort of official established couple. Maybe I need time to figure some stuff out, too!” 

“Yeah, well maybe I fell in love with you!” Chad interrupted without thinking, and the blood drained from Ryan’s face. 

“What did you say?” he whispered. 

Chad shrugged like it was no big thing, but of course he was squirming, trapped in the moment beneath Ryan’s frozen stare. He scratched at the back of his neck, and squirmed, and shrugged again. “I said, I think maybe I fell in love with you.” 

The silence following that remark was so utterly complete that Chad could hear every pounding beat of his heart, the blood throbbing in his brain. Then Ryan fell back a step, and shook his head. 

“Stay the hell away from me,” he whispered, and Chad could only stare as Ryan turned on his heel and ran.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharpay tells Ryan to take his comfort zone and stuff it. ~~thank goodness~~

Ryan drove aimlessly for hours, skirting the Sandia foothills and hugging the edge of Cibola National Forest. The scenery was beautiful, breathtaking, and it should have been soothing, silver mists blanketing the treetops with the hush of winter. But he still felt queasy and miserable, ill at ease and confused. Eventually he gave up, refilled the BMW’s gas tank, and pointed his car west once more. 

The Evans house was blazing with light when he finally arrived home that evening, but when he walked through the door, it was deceptively silent. “Shar?” he called out, surprised by the lack of music, television blare, _something._ There was no answer and so he hung up his coat then climbed the stairs, his footsteps leaden and tired. He pushed open his bedroom door already thinking ahead to a long hot bath, hoping it would relax him to the point that he could finally quiet his mind. 

“Finally,” Sharpay announced, and Ryan jumped, startled. She rolled off his bed and stood facing him, her hands on her hips and her body language screaming for battle. 

“Oh. There you are,” he said weakly, and turned to hang up his hat. “I didn’t see you.” 

“Well, that’s a surprise,” she replied, her voice dripping icicles of sarcasm. “Given that you seem to have completely forgotten that I exist.” 

“Sharpay—“ he began, with no idea where he was going, but it was just as well since she immediately cut him off anyway. 

“Let’s see, you stormed out of homeroom around eight a.m., didn’t call, didn’t text, and didn’t show up again until...” she glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand, “seven-thirty at night. Didn’t you think that maybe your mother might get worried?” 

“Mom has her DAR meetings, the second Tuesday of every month,” Ryan answered, and slipped his hands into his pockets, leaning back against his closet door. “She won’t be home for hours.” 

“Fine.” Sharpay folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “Didn’t you think that maybe your _sister_ might get worried?” 

He sighed, resigning himself to the fact that whatever she was about to dish out, he probably deserved. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re sorry.” She narrowed her eyes and studied him in taut silence for long moments. “Not good enough,” she decided. 

“Sharpay, what do you want?” he asked, wondering if there was some way he could short-circuit the whole explication of his sins and just move on to the restitution. 

“What do I want?” she echoed, and somehow managed to look even moreoffended. “I want to know how the hell it is that my twin brother has been dating a mutual acquaintance of ours for—what is it, Ryan? Months? And you didn’t once say a single honest word to me about it.” 

“It hasn’t been _months_ ,” Ryan answered, and pulled his chair away from his desk to sit down heavily. “Well... all right, maybe two months. Like, barely.” 

“Barely,” she muttered, disgust evident in her voice. She sat back on his bed. “And _why_ didn’t you tell me? Why did you think you needed to keep it a secret from me, of all people?” 

Ryan shrugged, and rubbed at the taut muscles in his neck. “Maybe I just didn’t want to set you off. You hate Chad.” 

Her mouth dropped open and she gaped like a fish, which was totally not a good look for her, although Ryan was not about to say so just then. “I do _not_ hate him,” she insisted, and waved him to silence when he started to protest. “I might not necessarily like him. I might wonder what on earth ever attracted you to him, besides his incredibly cute ass and very well-developed biceps.” Ryan blinked in surprise, and Sharpay rushed to head him off. “Shut up before you even start, Ryan. My point is that I’m not interested in having him, intrinsically, as part of my social life. But that’s got nothing to do with _yours_ , Ry. I don’t have to love your boyfriend, you know. If some scrubby guy with dirt under his nails actually treats you well and makes you happy, then I would tolerate him. For you.” 

Her words made him feel small, all the more so because he could hear the truth in them. “He doesn’t have dirt under his nails,” he said softly, feeling obscurely like he should be defending Chad so that Sharpay’s worst-case-scenario impression of him wouldn’t stick. 

She eyed him, waiting. “And?” she asked, after he offered up nothing more. “Does he treat you well? And make you happy?” 

Ryan rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Yeah, I guess. Yes. Whatever.” He dropped his hand and frowned at her. “It’s no longer relevant." 

“Right. Obviously,” she replied, but her expression said clearly just what she thought of his denial. “God, Ryan, I can’t believe you. Did you honestly think that I didn’t know?” 

He sat back, looking at her in confusion. “What?” he asked after a moment. “What do you mean, you knew?” 

“He came by here looking for you that night you got all dolled-up and went to score at Fifth’s,” she explained, shaking her head at him. “I can put two and two together, Ry. Particularly when it concerns you.” She paused, her mouth tightening, and she allowed some of her genuine hurt to shine through the sarcasm and harping. “I kept waiting for you to tell me already. I couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t.” 

Ryan dropped his gaze to the floor, guilt rising in his chest. “I’m—“ 

“Sorry, I know.” 

“No, really, Shar,” he insisted, and looked up to meet her eyes once more. “I am sorry. I didn’t have a good reason not to trust you.” 

She raised one eyebrow and studied him. “That’s right. You didn’t,” she agreed, and dropped her gaze to her manicure. With the softening of her posture, the pressure in the room instantly decreased by half, and Ryan nearly melted with relief. “All right, so. Tell me the rest now.” He looked at her in question, and she explained, “This morning, Chad informed all and sundry that you’re his boyfriend. Of course, he also accused you of having your head up your ass, and I suppose he’s familiar enough with your anatomy to know. So? What was all that about?” 

“I’m... I didn’t want him to make our relationship public,” Ryan answered, wondering why it sounded so fiercely important in his head yet so stupid on his lips. “I asked him not to, and he did it anyway. I don’t have to put up with that.” 

“Of course you don’t,” she agreed with a shrug. “But you also just told me that he makes you happy, so there must be something else going on. Because dumping him for just that one reason would be really stupid, and you know it.” 

Yeah. Ryan knew it. “He—I...“ he trailed off with a frown, and tried to marshal his arguments into something of substance. “Chad’s not ready to be in a gay relationship,” he said finally. “He’s not comfortable with that side of himself yet.” 

Sharpay raised one perfectly-plucked eyebrow high. "Right. Because a guy who makes a public announcement that he has a boyfriend is clearly someone who doesn't want anyone to know that he likes other guys. Yeah, he’s uncomfortable, all right," she scoffed, and shook her head. “Ryan, _you’re_ not ready.” 

“I know,” he snapped, goaded. “I know that I’m not. And I told Chad that, and... well, you saw what he did with that information.” 

She shrugged, like everything he was telling her was just a bunch of trivial details. “So, why are you sleeping with him then?” 

“Why the hell do you _think_ I’m sleeping with him?” he asked, but Sharpay waved a dismissive hand. 

“He’s an athlete. Great hands, great thighs—yes, Ryan, I get all that. But you slept with him more than once. Repeatedly, as a matter of fact.” 

“As a matter of...” Ryan shook his head, incredulous. “How the hell would you know?” 

“Please, Ryan, stop underestimating me,” she retorted. “You of all people know how dangerous that is.” 

He huffed a sigh and slumped in his chair. “I’m out of my comfort zone,” he said, and knew he was sulking like a five year-old after a tantrum. “I’m out of my zone, and I want back in it. That does not include boyfriends and stretch limos and declarations of love.” 

“Declarations of...” Sharpay trailed off and gawked at him. “Oh my god, I am _so_ going to kick your ass tomorrow. But right now, there is actually something more important,” she announced, and pushed to her feet, then pointed an accusing finger at him. “Your comfort zone sucks, Ry.” 

He jerked back in surprise. “What? What the hell do you mean by that?” 

She rolled her eyes and let out a very unglamorous groan of exasperation. “The Ryan Special,” she declared. “One blowjob, made to order, or one extremely inelegant fucking against the wall, if someone’s feeling particularly frisky. No names. No history. And not even the slightest bit of psychological security, or checking your so-called gentleman of the evening against the National Sex Offenders Registry.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Ryan, I personally consider it a gift from heaven that some self-hating homo wrestler hasn’t yet fucked you dry and then pounded the crap out of you. I thought for sure with the way you were going that would have already happened at least twice by now.” 

Ryan stared at her. “Right,” he said, his mouth gone dry. And then he had to take another moment to gather his wits, because Sharpay couldn’t have cut him to the quick with more stunning precision if she had used a surgical scalpel. “So, you’re saying I should date Chad because I’m _scared_? That dating Chad would be the _safe_ thing to do, and so that’s reason enough to do it?” 

She shook her head and stalked over to him, then put her thumb and middle finger together and flicked sharply at his forehead. “No, idiot brother of mine. I’m saying you should date him because you want to be with him.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad needs to recover from one of the worst days of his life.

Chad wasn’t usually the type to blow off practice, whether it was baseball, track, or basketball. It was important to him that he show up each day and pour out everything he had, sweating and working and friggin’ bringing his game the best he could. Some days he was better than other days, sure, but he knew that he only had those awesome ones because he spent the lousy days working his butt off on his technique. 

But after that blow-up with Ryan.... Yeah, no way was he sticking around at school one second longer than he had to. Of course, he’d hitched a ride in with Troy that day, and since Troy was not likewise skipping out on basketball practice, that meant Chad had a long walk home. 

Which gave him entirely too much quiet alone time to run his disastrous morning through his head, misery on an endless loop. 

By the time he reached his front door he felt drained, all the fight sapped out of him, leaving him hollow and cold. He could picture Ryan’s face with perfect clarity, could see the dull shock in those blue eyes when he’d told Ryan... well, when he’d told him. And he could hear Ryan’s voice echoing inside his skull, telling Chad to stay the hell away from him. 

Maybe Chad had been right the first time, before Ryan had crashed into his world and turned it upside down. Maybe he wasn’t really cut out for this relationship shit after all. Because, after all, it hadn’t worked with Taylor. Nor had it worked with Maria, the cutie from the dance squad he’d dated for a whole nine weeks during his sophomore year. And now he came to think of it, when had all that really started for him? Oh, right. Freshman year, a time when he’d been in full thrall to his hormones, and really just starting to become aware of just _how much_ girls liked him. 

A lot of girls. 

And, really, what were the odds that a forward from the JV lacrosse team would be such close pals with one of the freshman cheerleaders? Chad had figured himself safe for sure, because how could they ever find him out if they never got together to compare notes? Of course, he hadn’t been aware at the time that Shelley and Christine went to the same church, and participated in the same youth group, and their moms had been BFFs for, like, ever. 

...Yeah, that had gotten ugly. 

So it had been a blessing, all in all, to discover the benefits of sex-without-dating, and to realize that a guy such as himself could actually successfully pull that off. It made for far fewer complications, a whole lot fewer conversations which started with, ‘I don’t know, what do _you_ want to do tonight?’ and way less concern over digging himself in deep and sloppy, then having to deal with all the assorted deep and sloppy hurts that went with that. 

So, actually, once he got down to it... it seemed that _Ryan_ had been right the first time. 

Chad felt disinclined to give Ryan any credit, of course. But maybe one day, once he’d put all this mess far far behind him, he’d be able to look back on his two-month senior year mad season and... laugh. Well, be grateful – in a weird way – at the very least. 

Yeah. Right. 

He lay back on his unmade bed and stared at the ceiling, his mind an unwilling riot of color and sound and snatches of memory, every single one having to do with Ryan. How Ryan sounded when he breathed Chad’s name, encouraging him to touch more, take more. How Ryan looked in the moments before he came, his pale skin flushing rosy, his lips parted and wet. How Ryan _laughed_ , for heaven’s sake, and the initial realization that Chad adored listening to Ryan laugh should have clued him in ages ago that he was getting in way too deep. Because, seriously. A guy could be forgiven for wanting to spend time with someone he had monster sexual chemistry with, right? But a guy who got all goofy and happy over just completely adoring someone in a non-sexual way.... “God, what a pussy,” Chad muttered. He was either that, or... _Troy_. Which was... an uncomfortable comparison, to say the least. But at least Troy had had the brains to lose his mind over someone who actually gave a shit about him in return, and so their – admittedly absurdly frequent – break-ups and fights were usually resolved pretty quickly, with gooey happiness all ‘round. 

Chad groaned and rolled over, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his stomach. Life sucked. It sucked, and Ryan sucked, and Chad himself sucked, because this was seriously his own fault. And to hell with Ryan for being such an asshole, totally. But the feeling of utter stupidity was driving Chad nuts—the idea that he could have spared himself all this pain if he hadn’t been such an absolute idiot for ever getting hung up on that dick Ryan Evans in the first place. 

A knock on his bedroom door made Chad start, then look over his shoulder. “Yeah, come in,” he called, more than a little worried about just whom it might be. His mom, who didn’t know he’d been dating anyone in particular, who definitely didn’t know he’d been dating any non-female in particular, and who might not be able to resist smothering him with loving maternal concern. All the worse if Chad gave in and _let_ himself be smothered, because god he sure needed the comforting just now.... Or worse, Maya. Maya would harass him for every single tiny detail, then turn around and give him a perfectly straight-faced lecture on what he should do next and how he should have been behaving all along, with all the patronizing self-importance of a precocious twelve year-old. Of course, it could be worse, it could be.... 

“Hey, man.” Troy poked his head around the door, and offered Chad a vague wave. 

_Troy_. The goofy happy pussy who was obviously way smarter than Chad in the dating department, and wasn’t that a kick? “Hey,” Chad muttered, and sat up. “What’s up?” 

“Just, um. Just... missed you at practice today,” Troy explained with a shrug, and sat down on the foot of the bed. “The guys were wondering where you were, and... I wanted to make sure you that you were, you know. Okay.” 

_I am totally not okay._ Of course, Troy already knew that. And probably by this point, the entire friggin' school knew it. “Yeah, fine,” Chad answered, pushing his hair out of his face. “No problem.” 

“Oh.” Troy looked skeptical. “Okay.” He jiggled his leg nervously, his gaze traveling over the posters plastering Chad’s walls. And he didn’t meet Chad’s eyes when he said, “So, um. You’re....” 

“No,” Chad growled, and Troy looked at him in surprise. 

“Oh,” he said again, looking confused. “But you’ve been—“ 

“So?” Chad’s voice was a little more snappish than he’d intended, but he really couldn’t help it just then. 

“Oh. I thought that meant that—“ 

“ _No_ ,” Chad cut in, but he was clearly making no headway in this argument whatsoever. 

“...Okay,” Troy said after a moment, and the bafflement in his blue eyes didn’t abate. _Of course._ “All right, that’s cool. I mean, it’d be cool either way, you know that. I think you know that.” Troy frowned and scratched the back of his head. “Maybe I should tell Zeke, though. I think he went home to start searching through his cookbooks. He says he’s going to bake you a coming-out cake.” 

Chad sighed. “I think it’s a little late for the cake,” he replied, but felt touched by the gesture all the same. Why had he ever doubted his boys? He should’ve known they’d stick by him. 

Even so, he could really do without the post-game analysis from Troy. 

“Well, so... um.” Troy stared down at his sneakers. “Are you—is all that... done?” 

The question slammed into Chad with way more weight than it should’ve ever carried. “I... yeah,” he said after a moment, finally admitting out loud the realization that had been pumping through him all day long. “Totally done.” 

“Okay,” Troy replied, nodding. “So, then... you need a plan. No, better—you need a strategy.” 

“A strategy?” Chad stared at him. 

“Yeah! The Chad Danforth Comeback Strategy.” Troy gestured like he was drawing a grand marquee in the air. “Accept no imitators!” 

“You’re planning my comeback already?” Chad was dubious. 

“Totally!” Troy insisted, and shot him that winning smile. “I mean, you’re the king of playing the field, you know? So, you should, like, just get really busy. I mean, you can’t think about... you know, if you’re totally preoccupied with someone else, right? So, like, lots of sex, and... sex, and you could....” Troy’s voice trailed off and he bit down hard on his lower lip, so hard that when he released it a moment later, he left behind pale imprints of his teeth in the instant before the blood rushed back. “Um. Should we be planning your strategy to involve, um... guys? Because...” he thought for a moment and then shook his head, “yeah, I don’t actually know where you should go to score with, um. You know.” He nodded, and then needlessly clarified, “Guys.” 

“Troy, just forget it,” Chad barked, but Troy just stared at him. 

“Okay,” he said reluctantly, before adding, “but I thought this meant that you liked—“ 

“I liked _him_ ,” Chad interrupted, “and now I don’t. So let’s just fucking drop it, all right?” 

Troy drew back a little, and murmured, “I’m just trying to be supportive, man.” 

“Well, don’t!” Chad snapped, and inwardly he fucking hated that he’d put that flash of hurt into Troy’s earnest eyes. “I don’t need you to go all After-School Special on me, all right? I just want to forget that any of this ever happened.” 

For a long moment, Troy just watched him steadily, and it gave Chad the uneasy feeling that Troy knew way more about how Chad felt than Chad had ever admitted to. “All right, man,” he said eventually, and shrugged. “You want to forget it. I’ll play along. It’ll be like Ryan Evans never even existed, doesn’t have homeroom with us, isn’t in trig class with us, isn’t friends with our friends....” 

Chad put a hand to his aching head. “Yeah, thanks,” he muttered. “That really helps.” 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A diversion for those who want to know the origins of The Ryan Special.

_The summer before Ryan’s junior year._

“Come _on,_ Ryan,” Sharpay said, expertly applying a last coat of gloss to her red lips. “Cristián and Trent said they’ll hold the table at the Mirele until eleven, but then they’re going to make their way to the Casino de Monte-Carlo for the midnight show. I don’t want to get stuck with floor seats again.” 

“So go, then,” her twin brother answered, checking out his own reflection and angling his cobalt blue fedora just so. “I’m meeting Adam at the end of his shift.” He decided not to notice the exaggerated slumping of her shoulders, complete with eye-rolling. 

“Oh for heaven’s sake, again?” she asked, turning away from her vanity mirror to glare at him. “Ryan, he’s so... so....” 

“Don’t,” he said firmly, shooting her a look. “Completely gorgeous. Totally perfect for me. Incredible in bed. Pick any one of those phrases to finish your sentence, or don’t finish it at all.” 

“Common,” she muttered, but Ryan took the high road and pretended not to hear. “And how the hell would you know if he’s incredible in bed?” she demanded, speaking louder this time. “You’ve never been with anyone else.” 

“I have too,” Ryan protested, but she waved a dismissive hand. 

“Handjobs in the janitor’s closet with the pool boy at Lava Springs do _not_ count as real sex,” she insisted. “Not when your actual virginity is at stake.” 

“Fine,” he said, turning around to face her and folding his arms across his chest. “I know Adam’s incredible in bed because he’s friggin’ incredible in bed, Shar. How dumb do you think I am that I need something to compare him to? He kisses me and he touches me and he makes me feel...” Ryan’s voice trailed off and he sighed, a dreamy smile settling on his face. 

She groaned. “All _right_ , Ryan,” she said, giving in. She stalked to the walk-in closet and perused the top shelf before selecting an evening bag and slipping her lipstick inside, along with the key to their hotel suite. “I just don’t want you to get too wrapped up in him, okay?” she said, just as insistent as before, if slightly less obnoxious now. “We only have two more weeks before we have to head back to Albuquerque for the rest of summer, and then you’re never going to see him again.” 

“I might.” Ryan shrugged, trying to keep the gesture casual even though her words shot an anticipatory pang through him. “He’s going to apply to a few American schools. He might transfer to U of A in the fall.” 

Now Sharpay turned to stare at him. “Oh. God.” She drew breath and then stared some more, like she just couldn’t believe it. “You can’t seriously be thinking this—this _thing_ with him will continue.” 

Ryan smiled, unable to help the curving of his lips, the sudden lightness of his heart. “It might,” he said softly, and smiled wider. “He told me he loves me.” 

Sharpay’s mouth tightened, in that way he knew meant she was passing mere bitchiness and heading into genuinely unhappy territory. “Ry,” she whispered, then walked over and laid her hand lightly on his cheek. “I know you like him. And yes, even I can see that he’s gorgeous. But he lives in London,” she pointed out, as if Ryan didn’t already know that. “He’s only here in Monaco just to work through the season, and then he’s going _back_ to London. You shouldn’t let yourself get so attached.” 

“Too late.” He knew she simply didn’t get it. And for that reason, he forgave her skepticism. “I love him, too. He’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met, could ever hope to meet.” 

“You’re only sixteen—“ 

“And he’s _perfect_ for me. Shar, he’ll be perfect for me at any age,” Ryan insisted gently, wishing he could make her understand. Although, really, if it came down to Adam versus Sharpay’s understanding, then Sharpay had a lot of frustration coming her way. “Just be happy for me.” He shrugged and smiled again, feeling like he could dance on air. ”I am.” 

She sighed, searching his eyes for a long moment. “I know,” she said eventually, and kissed his cheek. “He’d just better stay worthy of you.” 

* * * 

Ryan gasped, arching his back as a shock of pleasure flashed through him. Adam whispered something unintelligible ending with Ryan’s name, and his hips sped up, a flawless rhythm rocketing Ryan towards the edge of reason. The bedsprings creaked and he thrust deep once more, twice—Ryan cried out in the instant before Adam stiffened, his entire body strung taut as a bow. It felt like his heart might thunder out of his chest, and when Adam came – a hot delicious rush deep inside him – Ryan tightened his embrace and pulled his lover close.

For long moments there were no words, only the staccato heat of Adam’s breath against his throat, the gradual slowing of their heartbeats. Then Adam pulled back, his cock slipping from Ryan’s body and leaving a wet trail against his inner thigh. He smiled lazily down and Ryan smiled back, feeling overwhelmed with adoration. “Thanks for waiting for me tonight,” Adam whispered. “I’m sorry I was so late getting off work.”

“That’s okay.” As always, Adam’s exotic accent, that gorgeously expressive voice, sent a thrill through Ryan. He reached up and tangled his fingers in the thick dark waves of Adam’s hair. “You’re worth waiting for.”

Adam grinned, his dimples winking, then he lay down and snuggled Ryan against him. “I was the one who had trouble being patient,” he said, laughter in his voice. “You looked so good tonight I wanted to jump you at the restaurant. And then I’d have been sacked.”

“Ohh, but it would have been worth it,” Ryan teased, and rolled to sit up, straddling Adam’s hips. “I would have consoled you. Somehow.”

“Yeah, I bet you would’ve done,” Adam laughed, sliding his hands along Ryan’s thighs. “Where did you find that shirt, anyway? It looked amazing with your eyes.”

“Think so?” Ryan felt his cheeks flush with pleasure. He leaned precariously down from his perch, his hand scrambling blindly against the carpet. Then his fingers closed against silk, and he sat up again, draping the dress shirt across Adam’s chest. He nodded. “Try it on,” he invited, and sat back on the bed.

“I don’t think it will fit me, Ryan,” Adam chuckled, but he was already sitting up and slipping his arms into the sleeves, deep blue silk flowing like water over his English rose skin.

“Sure it might. It’s a little big on me,” Ryan replied, and buttoned the shirt, then slid his hands down Adam’s chest. “It’s completely gorgeous on you. Go look.”

Adam cocked an eyebrow at him but obediently climbed out of bed, crossing Ryan’s hotel bedroom to admire himself in the full-length mirror. “You’re right, it does fit.”

“Mmm. Amazingly well,” Ryan agreed, and couldn’t keep the smirk from his voice as his gaze raked over Adam’s perfectly bare ass.

Laughing, Adam turned and shot him a wink over his shoulder. “Perhaps I’ll even pair it with trousers next time.”

“Oh god no, don’t go to any trouble for me,” Ryan replied, and clambered down from the bed. He slipped his arms around his lover’s waist and smiled at their joined reflection. “You should keep it,” he decided, resting his head against Adam’s shoulder. “Wear it the next time we go out.”

“Ryan, no,” Adam protested, shaking his head. “You’ve already spent so much—“

“I _like_ giving you things,” Ryan insisted, talking over him. “And this looks like it was made for you, so stop arguing with me.”

Adam sighed, but surrendered. He turned in the circle of Ryan’s arms, and Ryan shivered at the gentle caress of Adam’s finger against his lips. “You’re too good to me,” Adam whispered.

“Not possible,” Ryan whispered back, and licked at Adam’s fingertip. “I love you. It’s my right to be good to you.”

Now Adam dipped his head and slowly licked into Ryan’s mouth. “I thought I warned you not to fall in love with me,” he teased, and Ryan giggled.

“I couldn’t help it. It was all your fault.”

Adam drew back to look at him, and there was laughter dancing in his sea-grey eyes. “My apologies, then,” he murmured, and kissed Ryan again.

* * *

Sharpay frowned critically at her reflection, tilting her head. “Which ones are best, Ry?” she asked, trailing her fingers over the two necklaces she was comparing.

“The rubies,” he answered, but didn’t bother to look up. And unfortunately, she knew him well enough to be able to hear in his voice when he wasn’t giving her his full attention. “Ryan!” she snapped, turning to glare at him, hands on hips. “You didn’t even look.”

“Because rubies always work best with your complexion,” he answered, catching her eye now and attempting to soothe. Then he beckoned her over to the jeweler’s case he’d been studying. “Now come here and give me your opinion.”

She rolled her eyes and stalked over to him. “Cufflinks? Are you serious?” she scoffed. “Mother will be heartbroken if you don’t wear the ones she just gave you on our birthday.”

“They’re not for me,” he insisted, and gestured towards the two pairs he was considering. “They’re for Adam. The diamond and gold are classic,” he explained, tapping his finger against the glass. “But the onyx and platinum really make a statement. Do you think they’ll fit better with his personality?” he asked, looking up to meet her eyes.

Of course, then he immediately found himself wishing he hadn’t. “Ryan, what I think is that they’re way too expensive for a guy you’ve only known for three weeks.” He opened his mouth to protest, and she put up a warding hand. “I know, I know. You love him. I heard.”

“Exactly,” he said, somewhat mollified. He returned his attention to the case. “...So?”

She sighed, and ran a finger over the rubies dripping from her necklace. “Go with the platinum.”

* * *

“I don’t _want_ to eat at La Terrace again,” Sharpay complained, her spike heels clicking away against the pavement as she followed him out of the car to the waterfront restaurant, the sea breeze stirring her hair.

“So we won’t stay,” Ryan replied over his shoulder. “Adam has to work a double shift today, so I just want to surprise him and brighten his day.” He ignored her grumbling and nodded to the doorman who stepped aside for them. “He’s going to love these cufflinks. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

“We’re having lunch at the Palazzo,” she declared, still irritated, “and you are not getting a single bite of my ganache.”

“Then I’ll get my own,” he told her with a grin, then turned to smile at the uniformed hostess. “I just need to speak to Adam Warwick for a moment.”

“Adam...?” She looked at him curiously, then shook her head. “He’s not here.”

“Yes, he is,” Ryan replied, craning his neck to try and catch a glimpse of his lover somewhere deep in the restaurant. “He’ll be here till late.”

“No, he...” her voice trailed off and she waved at a tall waiter, who walked over. Ryan recognized him as a friend of Adam’s, and he smiled.

“Hi. Would you please tell Adam I need to see him for a moment?” he requested, and was baffled when the waiter shook his head as well.

“He’s not here,” he insisted, and drew himself up stiffly. Ryan wondered if he was imagining the discomfort he was reading in the young man’s eyes. “He had to fly back to London. It was an emergency.”

“Oh my god!” Ryan’s heartbeat started to race, and he felt Sharpay place her hand against the small of his back. “Is he okay? Is his family all right?”

“Yes, he’s just....” The man shifted, and Ryan knew he was definitely anxious now, if inexplicably so.

“He’s just what?” Sharpay broke in, losing her patience.

The waiter met her gaze for a moment, then looked back at Ryan. “His girlfriend is in labor. He flew home so he wouldn’t miss the birth.”

The crash of the waves against the shore outside rose to a dull roar in Ryan’s ears, and he felt like he was swaying on his feet. “...What?” he asked, his mouth dry and his voice echoing stupidly in his ears.

“He—“

“We heard you,” Sharpay snapped, and took Ryan’s hand, linking their fingers tightly together. He stumbled out onto the pavement after her and blinked into the sunlight, his mind whirling incomprehensibly. “Ryan....“

He stared at her in shock, then shook his head. “No,” he whispered, and pressed a fist against his suddenly-queasy stomach. “He didn’t—“ He turned away and dropped to his knees, retching into a bed of decorative lilies.

“Ohh, Ryan,” Sharpay murmured, laying a gentle hand on the nape of his neck. She ignored the doorman’s sniff of distaste, and stroked a finger against her brother’s cheek. “Come on, honey. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

* * *

_One year later._

“Emile and Brigitte made a dinner reservation at the Hôtel de Paris for nine o’clock. Don’t even tell me you’re wearing _that._ ”

Ryan carefully drew his fingertip along his eyelid, smudging his black kohl eyeliner just so. “I’m not coming with you,” he answered his sister, and pulled the silk of his shirt smooth, turning slightly to check the fit in the mirror. “I’m going out.”

“Uh-huh.” He could hear Sharpay’s frown from clear across the room. “Day six of our annual trip to Monaco, and you’re already going clubbing for the seventh time. Explain to me how that works.”

“Shar,” he sighed, and flipped through the bills in his money clip before slipping it into the front pocket of his jeans—no mean feat, considering just how tight they were. “I have plans. Tell them I said hello.”

“Yeah, you have plans,” she scoffed. “Should I even look for your strung-out ass before dawn? Or will you just wash in with the tide and sleep through lunch again?”

He turned, and shrugged off the disapproval standing stark in her eyes. “You don’t like it. I don’t care. I’m having fun.”

“Yeah, like hell you are.” Crossing to his side, Sharpay reached out and tugged at his shirt collar, baring the side of his neck. “Lots of fun, I see,” she drawled, but stopped short of touching the livid mark on his throat.

“Yes. Lots of fun,” Ryan insisted, reminding her that he could be just as obstinate as she. He pushed her hand aside.

“Mmm-hmm.” She stepped back and folded her arms across her chest. “Anyone special?”

“Absolutely,” he assured her in a mocking tone, narrowing his eyes. “Every single one of them.”

“That’s what I figured.” Leaning back against the bureau, she studied him skeptically. “Don’t you want some consistency? A boyfriend, maybe?”

“What the fuck would I do with a boyfriend?” Ryan muttered, and finger-combed his hair before picking up his hat.

“Oh, I don’t know. The same things as you do with all the rest of them? Maybe even more than once?”

“That was a rhetorical question,” he pointed out, shooting her a look of exasperation.

It seemed to shut her up, momentarily anyway. But then Sharpay was opening her mouth yet again, much to his dismay. “You know what I really don’t get? There are a ton of hot gay guys in this city,” she said, answering her own question. “I mean, obviously flamingly _out_ gay men. So why the hell do you only ever go after the ones who act like they’re straight?”

Now Ryan smirked at his reflection. “Because I can,” he drawled. “And because it drives their girlfriends insane.”

“Ryan—“

“Sharpay,” he cut in, turning to face her. “Every single guy I blow, every guy I let fuck me, you know what they do?” Now it was he who didn’t wait for an answer. “They go back to their girlfriends and they think about _me._ They remember me, I make damn sure of it. And they only ever see me again in their hot wet dreams.” He smirked, and tilted his hat down to a jaunty angle. Then he picked up his key to their hotel suite, and spread his arms wide. “And that means, I win.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan realizes that he might have been wrong about a few things.

Ryan Evans was a pro at moving on. He’d done it countless times before. Granted, he usually made his escape while the other guy’s pants were still down, but still. A pro. So, this thing between him and Chad... clearly it was just a timing issue. He was moving on two months too late, and it was as simple as that.

Because Sharpay was so obviously and completely wrong. Seriously, what were the odds that the person who knew him best of all in the world might actually be right about a thing like that?

...Okay, that part of his argument was less than convincing, but at least Ryan knew that it needed work. And in the meantime, he was moving on. Keeping busy. Spending way too many school nights out late, swapping spit with guys he didn’t know, guys who were variously too straight/too gay/too old for him. So what? He was busy. Busy, busy, busy.

And, by the looks of it, so was Chad.

In the wake of the Homeroom From Hell – as Ryan now thought of it – rumors had spread through the student body with all the speed and enthusiasm of a sixteen year-old with a brand spanking new driver’s license... and just as little attention to damning details. Chad Danforth was gay. Chad Danforth was bi. Ryan Evans was bi. Ryan Evans was straight, and what the hell kind of sense did that make? Chad Danforth had dumped Ryan Evans for his sister. Ryan Evans had dumped Chad Danforth for Chad’s best friend. Gabriella Montez had declared war and revenge on Ryan Evans, and was plotting to ruin the Winter Formal by hiding out in the rafters and dumping pig’s blood all over his Armani suit.

...All right, so Ryan hadn’t actually heard that last one going around. But he thought it was kind of fun, as sensationalist throwbacks went.

But regardless of the various ‘Chad Danforth has been fucking Ryan Evans’ rumors, Chad was having absolutely no trouble hooking up with girls these days. Ryan didn’t know whether that was just because so many of the girls knew Chad too well to ever believe Ryan could truly 'turn' him gay, or simply that Chad was now even more attractive, because they now saw him as that challenge supposedly irresistible to all girls: the hot gay guy, whom they could save from a life of dick purely through the power of their luscious femininity.

Ryan had always found that notion to be incredibly stupid – not to mention insulting – but, hey. Contrary to homophobic slander, he was not, in fact, a girl, and did not entirely understand how girls thought. So he left it alone, and simply tried to ignore the way Chad was never without female companionship anymore. Not in the hallway. Not in class. Not at parties. He’d been popular with the ladies before, no question. But these days it seemed like girls were tackling him in teams, and they were all just overeager for a piece of him.

Not that Ryan was paying attention, of course.

And anyway, it wouldn’t matter if he were paying attention—because Chad definitely wasn’t returning the favor. Since the HFH, Chad did nothing but look away from him, past him, through him. Which was considerate, in a strange way, since it cut down on awkward encounters where one or the other of them might actually have to acknowledge the other’s presence. The fact that Chad wasn’t pursuing clumsy last-ditch efforts to change Ryan’s mind, well, that just saved Ryan from having to let him down gently. And the fact that Chad seemed perfectly happy to have girls clamoring for his attention every second of the day, well, that just proved that Ryan had been right all along, and Chad was full of shit and clearly not to be trusted.

Because a guy didn’t do that—didn’t claim he was in love one day and then just be totally over it the next.

Not that Ryan knew much – anything, really – about love. Which was all well and good, obviously. Because if Ryan had been in love with Chad, then he wouldn’t have been able to just immediately move on. And if he’d been in love, then it would have killed him to see Chad back to flirting with cheerleaders, that irresistible and irrepressible grin on his face. And if he’d been in love, then he’d have been losing sleep all this time, lying awake and miserable and trying to figure out why nameless hook-ups now seemed less like exciting illicit encounters, and more like trials he had to put himself through just to convince himself he was better off this way.

And if... screw it. After two weeks, four days, and approximately six and a half hours, Ryan was pretty certain that he’d been in love with Chad, or, at the very least, he'd been headed there fast. And the thing that completely terrified him was that he was beginning to worry he’d never stopped.

But what the hell was he supposed to do with that realization, anyway? Grovel? Oh hell no. Evanses did not grovel. Put on his tightest pair of jeans and sashay past Chad in homeroom? Yes, obviously, but he’d already done that as a matter of course. Just go on acting like nothing had ever happened? ...Well, yeah. But that plan was making him kind of miserable.

So how had Chad gotten his attention in the first place, when Ryan was so reluctant to get involved with him? Ohh, right. The tree-climbing incident. Ryan was pretty sure that even if there were a conveniently-located non-cactus-type tree outside Chad’s window, said window would be shut and locked. Leaving Ryan trapped like a fool, halfway up and halfway down, and still no closer to getting Chad to look at him once more.

But even before the tree thing, there’d been.... Frowning, Ryan carefully lowered himself out of Firefly pose and studied his face in the mirror. They're all songs that make me think of sex, Chad had told him, his voice deepening into a husky whisper. Ryan could reciprocate, sure, and he could do a better job while he was at it. But sex... hadn’t been the problem between them, not for a while now. Ryan swallowed hard, anxiety forming a lump in his throat. Not sex, and they were already way too far gone for friendship, so that left....

He dropped his face into his hands, and shuddered at the truth.

* * *

Tracking Chad down in the hallway was fairly easy; Ryan just had to seek out the knot of students with all the giggling and shiny hair and perky breasts. Okay, so there were probably some other distinctive features in there, too, maybe even a few personalities, but Ryan really wasn’t interested in getting to know them. He just wanted them the hell away from Chad. Breaking through that infuriating cluster of hormones and getting to Chad, now that was the tough part.

He shadowed the Chad-mob after homeroom – from an inconspicuous distance, of course – and again after trig, and caught a glimpse of them again just before lunchtime. But the thought of trying to shove his way through to Chad’s side, then announce in front of all those gossipy observers that he really wanted to talk to Chad in private... all right, so Ryan would do it if he had to. He had committed himself to this course, and he would suck it up and make it happen, whatever that necessitated.

But he was really really hoping he’d somehow get a lucky break instead.

And on Tuesday, that break finally came. Ryan was packing it in after a grueling rehearsal, stopping by his locker to grab his music theory book, when he spotted Chad towards the end of the hallway. That late in the day, the school was nearly deserted; Chad could only have been there for the same reason Ryan was, just to get his last few things before heading home after basketball practice.

He walked quickly, but tried to be quiet and unobtrusive about it. Quiet, at least, he could manage, but sadly Chad could undoubtedly see him from 200 feet off. Ryan was worried that Chad would spot him and take off in the opposite direction, and it seemed that Chad did have something like that in mind, but Ryan caught up with him just in time.

“Hi,” Ryan said, a little out of breath from the power-walk and the fear and the really pitiful attempt at subterfuge.

Chad looked directly at him for the first time in weeks, and at first it made Ryan hope... but an instant later, that delusional hope crashed to the ground. Chad’s eyes were so cold, dead and empty in a way Ryan had never seen before. It made Ryan feel like he had a knot of vipers writhing in his stomach. “Hi,” Chad said, in a voice totally devoid of inflection.

“How—how are you?” Ryan asked, silently begging Chad to just give him a chance.

Yeah. Right. Chad rolled his eyes and then just turned away in silence, shutting his locker and striding off down the hall. Ryan caught up with him in a few steps. “Chad, wait,” he said, but he might as well not have been there at all. “Chad,” he said again, and dared to put his hand on Chad’s arm.

“Get the hell off of me!” Chad exploded, whipping around to face him.

Ryan fell back a step, his eyes wide. “I just need...” he began, but faltered at the look on Chad’s face, the one that clearly said Ryan ranked right up there with maggots in Chad’s universe. He tightened his grip on his messenger bag, and gathered his courage. Head high, shoulders back. Voice clear and unbreaking. “I need to give you this,” Ryan announced, sounding as confident as if he were speaking from center stage. He reached into his bag, then placed a small slim object in Chad’s palm.

Chad stared down at his hand, giving the mp3 player a disdainful once-over.

"I made you a mix," Ryan murmured, and Chad looked at him like he was completely crazy. And... hell. He was probably right.

“Yeah. Thanks,” Chad muttered, turning on his heel and stalking off once more.

This time, Ryan let him go.

Ryan's playlist for Chad:

Erasure - "I Could Fall in Love with You"

Ben Lee - "Ache for You"

Filo & Peri (ft. Eric Lumiere) - "Anthem"

Spring Awakening OBCR - "My Junk"

RENT OST - "I Should Tell You"

Scissor Sisters - "Can't Come Quickly"

Wicked OBCR - "For Good"

James - "Don't Wait That Long"

Erasure - "Here I Go Impossible Again"

Dido - "Here with Me"

Thompson Twins - "Lay Your Hands"

Hedwig and the Angry Inch OST - "In Your Arms Tonight"

Spring Awakening OBCR - "Touch Me"

Wicked OBCR - "As Long As You're Mine"


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad is getting over Ryan. Sure he is.

“Oh yeah. Right there. Right—“ Chad swallowed the words in a groan and fisted his hands against the sofa cushions. Between his thighs, Kara Lipson was wonderfully occupied, and Chad considered himself pretty darn lucky that he’d caught her on the rebound from a guy she’d been dating for more than a year. Pre-Michael, he and Kara had had a few good times, oh yeah. But it had been a while. It was good to know that she still knew what she was— 

“Wait—no,” Chad muttered, and brushed his fingertips over her cheek. “Further down. Just like—oh yeah,” he breathed. “Now harder. And more—“ 

“You know, I can do this without your running commentary,” she pointed out, sitting back on her heels and giving him a sardonic look. 

“What?” he asked, popping his eyes open to look down at her. “I just wanted to—“ 

“So what is it? Now that you’ve dated a guy, blowjobs from girls just aren’t good enough for you anymore?” She raised an eyebrow. “Is his technique so amazingly phenomenal because he’s a guy and so he just _knows?_ ” she asked, and the sarcasm was definitely coming through loud and clear. 

However... “Pretty much,” Chad muttered, and then shrugged when she threw her hands up in disgust. “What? Kara—wait,” he urged as she got to her feet. “No seriously, just—“ he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. “I’m sorry, okay? Just... just forget I said anything.” 

“Forget that you now think I’m crap at giving head?” she snapped. 

“No. No, I never said that, and I never meant that,” Chad insisted, and tangled his fingers in her dark hair. “C’mere. We don’t need to—“ the rest of his sentence was lost in her mouth as he pulled her close for a deep kiss. She was still pretty rigid, perched on his knee and letting herself be kissed without providing a whole lot of response. He shifted his angle and ran his hand up her side, and _god_ Kara had great tits, for a while there Chad had almost forgotten how awesome boobs were in general, but now— 

“Off,” she ordered, and shoved his hand away. “I’m not done getting over your mental comparisons just yet.” 

“Oh come _on,_ Kara!” he exclaimed, exasperated. "Look, do you want me to fuck you or not?" 

“Uh, gee, at this moment? Not particularly,” Kara said, sitting back and folding her arms across her chest. 

“Fine,” Chad muttered, and slouched against the sofa cushions. Obviously, he’d gone wrong somewhere. But he didn’t like to think about just _where_. 

“You know,” Kara mused, watching him way too perceptively, “you used to be a lot more fun. Before you started screwing guys, I mean.” 

Chad groaned and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Thanks, Kara. I knew I could count on you.” 

She watched him in silence for another long moment, and dammit she was starting to make his skin crawl. But when she spoke again, her voice was soft, searching. “He really wrecked you, didn’t he?” 

_Fuck you!_ was Chad’s knee-jerk response, and surely he would have been on his feet and heading out the door if not for some strange remnant of feeling, tucked deep in his heart. She wasn’t Troy, or even in their group of friends. And she could perhaps be trusted not to spill every word of this conversation... although Chad found himself wondering whether he really cared anymore. “Yeah,” he said quietly, “he did.” 

That was definitely sympathy shining in her eyes, and Chad hated how much it was calling to him. She got off his knee and then curled up next to him on the couch, resting her head against his shoulder. With a sigh, Kara reached out to link their hands together. “I’m sorry. You’re a good guy, Chad. As in, actually a really decent person. I wish he hadn’t hurt you.” 

Chad’s jaw tightened, and he fought to keep his cool. Angry words were so much easier to combat than this gentle understanding. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I wish that, too.” 

* * * 

It was pretty difficult not to notice the way Ryan kept glancing toward him in class, like he was just waiting for Chad to deliberately look up, make eye contact. And forgive him. 

_Yeah. Right._

Chad wasn’t the kind of guy to make the same mistake twice. Or... three times. Or, wait, how many times had it actually been? If he stopped and counted up every little time it had been him chasing Ryan, trying to charm him, trying to change Ryan’s mind about him, revealing to Ryan how he felt.... Too many times, for certain. Chad was so not going back there. 

And as long as he managed to avoid that glance in class, or any sort of contact whatsoever, then Chad should be able to keep his word to himself: _no more._ It was when he looked at Ryan that he had a problem. Because, yeah, Ryan was gorgeous, even if Chad thought he could pass for a Bird of Paradise half the time. But it wasn’t the looks. Ryan had been gorgeous when he was aloof, and when he was snotty, and when he was irritating the crap out of Chad. Now, though... now when he looked at Chad, it was like he was finally letting all of his arrogance go, and with it all his self-assuredness and snark. There was uncharacteristic hesitance in those blue eyes, and it mingled with something that looked like anxious hope. 

The hope made Chad friggin’ furious. Where did Ryan Evans get off hoping for anything from him? 

That thought was still running through his mind one morning after trig class, when he was glaring at the contents of his locker and trying desperately to remember just what it was he’d been looking for. Because RyanRyan _Ryan_ simply made it so damn hard to think. And no fucking thanks to his over-heightened senses which were obviously still tuned in to Ryan even weeks after they’d last been together, because Chad didn’t even have to turn to know that Ryan was standing behind him. He teased out that light scent on the air, the one that was distinctly Ryan's, and it kicked him hard in the gut, a shock of sensory memory all tied up with the taste and the feel of Ryan’s warm skin. 

“What do you want?” he muttered, without even turning around. 

There was a beat of hesitation, and then, “It’s been four days.” 

Chad frowned, and shoved a notebook into his backpack before slamming his locker shut. He turned around to face Ryan and tried to ignore that fucking _look_ in his eyes. “What?” 

“Four days,” Ryan repeated quietly. “Since I gave you my playlist.” He waited expectantly, and Chad leaned back against his locker. 

He gave the pause in conversation just a little time to get good and awkward, and then said, “So?” 

Ryan bit his bottom lip – Chad looked away – and then asked, “Did you think anything of it?” 

Emotions roiled up inside Chad, hot and twisted and messy. He tamped down the fury and the hurt and the... other stuff, which he was trying so hard to ignore out of existence. And he made sure his gaze was totally closed and cold before he dared to meet Ryan’s eyes again. Then he shook his head. “You can’t seriously think I’d _listen_ to that.” 

Pain flashed across Ryan’s face and Chad turned away, needing to get out and get gone before the look in Ryan’s eyes weakened him any further. 

* * * 

Late that night Chad lay in his bed, watching shadows flit across his ceiling as the wind stirred the bougainvillea vines. iTunes proclaimed that Ryan’s playlist had been listened to a minimum of 27 times, with a few songs here and there marked as more popular. It was a loose mix of genres, but a fairly cohesive playlist all told, and yeah, Chad got the theme. He got it big-time. 

He just wasn’t sure if he was ready to buy into it. 

It was possible, Chad figured, that Ryan’s feelings for him were genuine. But truth in that moment could make no claims on the future. And – after everything – did Chad really trust Ryan to be fair, consistent, loyal? To act like a friggin’ normal person who _wanted_ to be cared about, and didn’t kick and scream at the slightest hint of affection or intimacy? 

Chad frowned at the ceiling and the dull ache in his chest throbbed, the pain which he’d been carrying around for weeks now. It wasn’t getting any better. None of this was getting any easier. 

Pulling the earbuds from his ears, Chad tossed the mp3 player to the floor, then rolled over to hug a pillow to his chest. And wait for sleep. 


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale!

Semester final exams finally came and went, and Ryan was pretty sure he’d managed to scrape at least a B in trigonometry. The Winter Formal passed by auspiciously, with Sharpay bringing along her latest, a UNM sophomore who seemed light on logic but long on charm—so long as he was never required to make even a halfway-funny joke. Ryan spent the evening in the Evans’ home theater, watching _Moulin Rouge_ and shaking his head over the sorry state of Nicole Kidman’s pitchiness. Ewan McGregor could only compensate for so much. 

Ryan could have gone to the dance as well, of course, and had argued the possibility with himself for more than a week. Eventually he’d decided, however, that it would be better to stay home and thereby escape the torture of seeing Chad elegantly dressed up, with the lovely Kara Lipson on his arm. Kara had a strange penchant for fuchsia lipstick, á la Christina Aguilera, but other than that sad fashion misstep, Ryan was unable to find much wrong with her. 

He hated that. 

Chad still wouldn’t give him the time of day, and in fact managed to appear in complete ignorance of Ryan’s very existence. It was tearing Ryan apart. He never would have guessed that the rift between them could hurt so much, like a ragged open wound. He needed closure, and he knew it. 

It was with that goal in mind that he found himself on Chad’s doorstep on the eve of winter vacation, knocking sharply on the door and then hunching into his cashmere coat when a chill wind blew up. There was no response for long moments, and Ryan was just lifting his hand to knock again when the door swung open, spilling light out onto the stoop. A coltish girl on the cusp of adolescence stood there and regarded Ryan with a solemnity beyond her years. 

“Hi,” he said, giving her an uncertain smile when she didn’t say anything. “Is Chad home?” 

“Yeah,” she answered, lifting one thin shoulder in a shrug. She didn’t move from the doorway. “You’re Ryan.” 

He blinked. “Yes.” He scrounged around for some sort of appropriate further response, still startled that she knew him at all. “And you’re Maya.” 

“Uh-huh.” She cracked her gum nonchalantly. “You’re not his boyfriend anymore.” 

The words were simple and direct, and they struck with blunt force. “I know,” Ryan replied, “but I’d like to talk to him anyway.” 

She studied him a moment longer, her eyes huge and serious, then took a step back. “Okay,” she agreed, and turned towards the stairway to yell, “Chad!” 

“What?” came a response from upstairs as Ryan pulled the front door shut behind him. “What is—“ Chad halted on the landing, staring at Ryan in surprise. “Oh.” 

“Hi,” Ryan said, looking up and drinking in the sight. “Have you got a few minutes?” 

Chad opened his mouth to reply... then looked aside at Maya, and appeared to reconsider the question. “Yeah, all right,” he muttered, and waved a hand toward the stairs before turning and heading back into his bedroom. 

Ryan laid his hand on the banister, and turned to thank Maya. She said nothing, but he could feel her eyes boring into his back as he climbed the stairs. 

He shut the bedroom door softly behind him and leaned against it, his eyes on Chad, who was standing across the room with his arms folded across his chest. “What do you want?” 

“I—I just need to talk you. Just a little,” Ryan answered, his voice quiet. “I haven’t really gotten the chance to apologize to you yet.” 

Chad stared at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?” he asked, his mouth twisting into a frown. “You came here to apologize?” 

“Yeah,” Ryan replied, pulling off his leather gloves and putting them into his pockets. “Is that so hard to believe?” He shook his head and held up a warding hand. “Don’t answer that. Look, I just—I’m really sorry, Chad,” he said, willing Chad to believe him. “I acted like an idiot, and I ruined something really good, and... I’m sorry about that. And I’m even sorrier that I hurt you.” 

His declaration was met with silence, and Chad leaned against his desk, looking uncomfortable. “You did act like an idiot,” he agreed a moment later, staring down at his bare feet. “Not to mention an asshole.” 

Ryan sighed and pulled off his newsboy cap to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I know. An idiot and an asshole.” 

Chad nodded – Ryan felt perhaps he could have agreed with _slightly_ less enthusiasm – and then looked up to squarely meet Ryan’s eyes. “What made you realize all this, all of a sudden?” 

“I...” Ryan trailed off, and tried to determine exactly what the crux had been. “I guess it was one day when I watched you laughing with some girl in the hall. That really hurt.” 

“Oh.” Chad frowned again. “So you were jealous.” 

“No,” Ryan insisted gently. But he wanted to be clear on this point. “It hurt to realize how much I missed having you smile at me. Having you laugh with me.” 

Chad nodded again. “Yeah, I missed that too,” he said softly. 

Ryan bit down hard on his lower lip, feeling the ache of regret washing through him. Then he sighed, realizing that he’d just used up the entire excuse for his visit. “So, um. That was... I just needed to say that,” he said, straightening up and laying his hand on the doorknob. “I hope that Kara is as good to you as you deserve.” 

“Kara and I aren’t together,” Chad replied, and Ryan looked over his shoulder, then turned to face him again. 

“Oh. Um,” he said, wondering why Chad would bother telling him that, and desperately trying not to read anything into it. “Oh?” 

Chad scratched the nape of his neck, his eyes on a huge color poster of Hank Aaron at Brewers Field. “Yeah, well...” he shrugged. “She’s still kind of hung up on her ex. And, you know.” He hesitated again, and then seemed to force his next words out. “So am I.” 

_So am I._ Suddenly Ryan’s heart felt lighter than it had in nearly a month. He took a cautious step towards Chad, and then resolutely closed the distance between them. “So are you?” he asked quietly, watching for every nuance of expression on Chad’s face. 

“Yeah.” Chad nodded, and then reluctantly met Ryan’s eyes. “I mean... I guess we’ve all got our junk, right?” 

“Right,” Ryan whispered, and he felt golden, he felt shiny and elated, he felt—“Wait,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Did you just quote Broadway at me?” 

Chad blanched. “No.” 

Ryan’s eyes widened. “You did!” he exclaimed, and that realization was immediately followed by the next. “You listened to the playlist I made for you!” 

Frowning, Chad shifted his weight to his other foot. “So?” 

“ _So_...” Ryan trailed off, and then just smiled, a slow curving of his lips, filled with hope once more. “So, I love that you listened to it. I... you know, I kind of put my heart into it,” he murmured, ducking his head for a second. 

And now he knew he wasn’t just imagining the beginnings of a smile on Chad’s face. “Yeah. I noticed that,” he said. “There was a lot of 80’s crap on there, though. What was that about?” 

Ryan blushed. “I _like_ 80’s pop,” he confided in a mumble, then protested, “and I didn’t put any of the crap on there.” 

“Yeah, well...” Chad shrugged, and that familiar twinkle of mischief was back in his eyes. Ryan’s heart leaped at the sight. “I guess it didn’t totally suck.” 

“It didn’t—“ Ryan put his hands on his hips, trying to look affronted when inside he was dancing. “Screw you, Danforth.” 

Chad smirked, then closed his hand over Ryan’s nape and pulled him close. “Right back atcha, Evans,” he muttered, and then Ryan lost himself in Chad’s kiss. 

* * * 

_One month later._

“Okay, so the square of the distance from P to the zero point equals one,” Ryan said. “Now tell me how you’d write that in an equation.” 

“I have no idea,” Chad murmured, and breathed a kiss onto the back of Ryan’s neck. 

“Quit it, that tickles,” Ryan muttered, shifting in Chad’s arms. Maybe studying together wasn’t the most efficient idea. But sitting on the floor between Chad’s thighs, with Chad’s arms wrapped around him and Chad’s lips on his throat, well... who could blame him for choosing that over the library? “And you do too know, we just reviewed it yesterday.” 

“Umm...” Chad licked at Ryan’s earlobe. “The square of cosine _t_ plus the square of the other thing.” 

“The square of sine _t_ ,” Ryan answered, “and you know that—“ 

"Tell me again that you're crazy about me," Chad broke in, his fingers playing along Ryan’s arm. 

"No," Ryan answered, biting back a smile. “So if the sine of _t_ is—“ 

"Why not?" Chad asked, pulling away just far enough that he could look at Ryan’s face. 

"Because you're spoiled enough already," Ryan replied, his voice prim. 

Chad grinned. “Is that so?” he murmured, and nuzzled at Ryan’s neck. "Tell me again." 

“No.” Ryan couldn’t quite manage a straight face, which would be no shock to anyone who knew him. 

“ _Tell_ me,” Chad growled softly, and Ryan turned in the circle of his arms, then licked at Chad’s bottom lip. 

“I’m crazy about you,” he whispered, and Chad’s smile spread like sunshine. 

He brushed a kiss over Ryan’s lips. “Yeah. I know.” 

\--- 

END. 


End file.
